Evil Always Finds a Way
by FirstoftheAbyss
Summary: All actions have consequences. Thousands of lives were destroyed by the war between Titans and Olympians. If someone would have asked the question who would have believed that one of them would have mattered as much as the fate of Kronos at the time? Yet his legacy persisted, a legacy which contained more than blood. There was a title, Overlord, half forgotten and a girl. Fem-Percy
1. What people don't know

**More than a full year, that's the time it took for me to post something upon fanfiction. Not really a pace I am proud of. What happened during those two years? Mostly work, me acquiring a diploma to work in an archive and actually getting a job in such place (for another "short" while). Which is sort of good for my writing, I have less free time but I am no longer too exhausted to think once I come home. The current story is something I started writing as practice, before continuing with my main story to keep my standards up. I currently have at least one (and most likely two) chapters from this particular fic which will be posted as well. **

**This story is a crossover between the Percy Jackson-world and the Overlord-games series (which is completely unrelated to the anime/ manga-series of the same name). It shouldn't be necessary to have played the game to follow the story although I would at least advice watching one or more trailers to get an impression from the Minions (I would also advice doing so for no other reason that those are rather entertaining, so are the games...especially the second one...highly unsubtle hint which everyone is free to ignore).**

**What to expect before you start reading?**  
**It is a massive AU. The world is fantasy version of Ancient Greece (or more exact the eastern part of the Mediterranean) where the Greek Gods failed to defeat the Titans completely. Both sides regularly unite to some extend to face each other in an "attempt to end the war" or to (re)conquer some lost ground after a particular grueling set-back or a series of setbacks, but they are at least as often fighting nations and Gods from their own side as the Gods or Titans which they're supposed to oppose. This has went on for such a long time that even the Giants have made their appearance.**  
**On a related note since Overlord is a game, I included some gameplay-elements in the world.**  
**Secondly,whilst the fic is obviously (!) influenced by the games, I won't be simply copy pasting those storylines. The idea is to start off rather similarly and then allow it to shift the course to fit my own ideas and interests.**  
**Thirdly this fic is currently fairly low upon the list with my priorities (which might change). So I might allow it to die after the last of the currently written chapters is posted.**  
**Fourth this story features fem-Percy (who is not Persephone), Anger, self-justifying, lies, ruthlessness, (self-)deception, Minions, casual bloodshed, sheep, axes and if continued will also feature the slippery slope between Good and Evil, actual Evil, the pavement to the road to Hell/ Tartaros and ... (just in case it wasn't obvious that not everything upon the lists is bad) Lesbians (yuri), harems, loyalty, enjoying your job and even Minions wielding axes.**

**For those who wonder about what seems to be a shift from Kronos to Atlas as the former "Big Bad" in the story, this is not a mistake but something that will be explained at the end of the chapter.**

**As always a thank you to my beta Lord Protector Corvo Attano for checking this chapter.**

**Disclaimer (with no actual value): I do not own the rights to the Percy Jackson-imperium or the Overlord-franchise**

* * *

**Evil Always Finds A Way**

The impish creature slowly laid his hand upon the rough surface from molten rock. He moved the tips of his fingers over the dark material with a slow and careful motion of his hand, almost as if he was caressing the scar-riddled top.

"Is this it?" He asked, almost hissed with a soft and rather high-pitched voice which betrayed an evil glee.

Another small creature erupted from one of the numerous caves which surrounded the plateau upon which the large rock had been displayed like an altar.

"It is this one!" The newcomer shrieked rapidly with a slightly higher voice which gave a hint about his much more impetuous nature as he nodded enthusiastically.

The first creature fixed his yellow eyes upon the newcomer. Both were small creatures and each was obviously a member from the same species although the first creature looked many times older than the second and indeed, Gnarl was old. He was a being that was rumoured to be as ancient as the Titans themselves, the first of his kind and he had been a seemingly immortal blight upon the earth ever since. Nobody except maybe himself knew his true age and origins or even if indeed he had been young once and not the ancient sage as which he usually portrayed himself.

Both Minions were small creatures, for no member of their race had ever reached much beyond the height of a tall man's hips and every one of the critters was stooped forward which had them occasionally drag the nails from their long arms across the tiles of the floor.

Minions were always roughly humanoid in shape but they were not bereft of a hint of reptilian influence in their appearance. This impression was created by their yellow eyes, the long neck, short tail and their clawed feet. Their skin was wrinkled and leathery and Gnarl's was even more so than the others'. Their hands however were most definitely human looking, despite the length of their nails, even if they only had three long fingers and a thumb.

However the most striking aspect of a Minion's appearance was neither of these traits. What was, were their faces. These were notably animated, almost like a living parody of an actor's mask, yet one which sported a large mad grin which exposed numerous razor-sharp teeth. Their ears were especially long and pointed like a perversion of the fictional race of elves. However unlike these creatures theirs tended to move in accordance to their mood. Furthermore they were generally mostly hairless creatures, one of the few notable exceptions upon this rule was Gnarl who sported a long grey goatee and equally impressive looking sideburns.

Whilst the lower Minion, Mauler, wore nothing except for a small leathery loincloth and carried a rather miserable looking club in his right claw, Gnarl wore what looked like an old and faded hermit's robe which had attained the colour of a faded wine stain and a motley old cloak from what seemed like grey rags. The most notable aspect of his guise was the massive, glowing crystal which hung in front of him from a wooden stick which had been strapped to his back.

* * *

"A new Overlord, you say?" Gnarl asked Mauler curiously, with a poorly disguised interest. "A new opportunity for Evil?"

Gnarl grinned and stretched his arms out.

His eyes stared at the block of molten rock which was the size of a very large coffin which had been discovered in the dungeons of the Tower by his Minions a couple of hours ago.

"I wonder which one it is." Gnarl whispered before he took a deep whiff.

"But I can already smell the blood on it's hands." He continued whilst cackling and rubbing his hands.

Mauler nodded enthusiastically. "We can feel the Master calling out to us." He shrieked happily before taking a whiff himself. "So strong, so loud."

Gnarl exposed his teeth in a feral grin. "The call is strong indeed, the Master himself led us towards him."

Then almost as if answering this call, more Minions snuck out of the holes and tunnels which led to the cave below the decayed tower and ran towards the block. Unlike Gnarl though, none of the creatures dared to come close enough to touch the block. Instead they kept staring at it from a distance whilst those who could hid themselves behind one of the numerous pillars of the room.

Finally, after thirty Minions had appeared, Gnarl dropped a small pack with a loud thud upon the tiles of the floor and ordered them forward with a wave from the crude walking stick which he carried in his hand.

That was all the incentive which the Minions needed before they ran towards the pack and began unwrapping the cloth which revealed a few hammers and chisels. Merely moments later the first Minions had climbed upon the rock and despite their earlier mixture of fear and reverence, they began attacking the top of the "sarcophagus" with a rarely seen relish. A few others began assaulting other exposed parts of the surface and it did not take long before the critters had organised the work and took turns with the tools.

Once this routine had been established, it took the impish creatures scarcely more than an hour before enough of the surface had been peeled away by the chisels to break through the top.

A simultaneous cry of surprise expressed their pleasure at the gap. Moments later, they somehow redoubled their efforts and another crack appeared in the sturdy rock.

Finally a last hit and a part from the roof of the coffin shattered. To their own surprise the Minions heard splattering when numerous pieces of broken stone disappeared in the darkness of the natural sarcophagus and the creatures took a few instinctive steps backwards due to the sound of water. Then his curiosity made one of the braver creatures leap forward and the creature peered down into the gap.

As he had been made impatient by the short wait, Gnarl ordered one of the Minions forward to rub some acid in the eyes of the Overlord to "freshen" him up.

* * *

Inside of the coffin a set of eyelids was slowly forced apart which left a pair of confused, sea-green pupils half-exposed to the scarce light that streamed into the coffin. Their owner's blindness was first replaced by a dense fog and then this fog slowly began to fade away. Suddenly a flash of pain tore through the muddled mess which was her consciousness and her eyes shot wide open.

The Minion who just reached for another drop of acid felt five fingers close around his wrist with a force that seemed powerful enough to rival a bank screw. A moment later a strong pull made him tumble forward and fall into the coffin of hollow rock.

The next thing he noticed was a single sea-green eye which seemed to light up as if pale light shone from behind the pupil and which was now filled with an inhuman rage. It was scarcely a moment later when the Minion was flung out through the gap in the coffin once again. The creature landed upon his back with a hard smack and although he was still numbed by the impact of the throw, his instincts told the Minion instantly to start crawling backwards, to create some distance from the wrath which he had awoken.

Most of the other Minions were staring in admiration at the arm which rose up from the coffin, this was a fairly slender and pale, but well muscled limb, which had been stained by a number of scars. Then a second arm appeared and ten fingers wrapped themselves around the edges of the large gap. There was the sound of water splashing and the soft sound of drips hitting the ground as well as the much louder and sucking sound of a body escaping the water's embrace.

The first thing the Minions noticed was the long hair which hung in front of the newly awoken Overlord's face. Gnarl couldn't help himself but smile as he noticed it had the same, dark colour as his own soul. This was a promising omen.

Then a pair of smooth hands with slender fingers pushed the ink-black curtain which hung in front of the face behind her. Gnarl instantly noticed the pouty lips, long eyelashes and the small, pert nose of his new overlord who had now been revealed as being young and female. She glared at the Minions and showed them her teeth whilst she simultaneously kept her rapidly reddening left-eye closed.

As she rose up from her coffin, the young woman revealed that she had rather broad shoulders and that underneath a thin and partly torn tunic her belly was taut with a hint of muscles. More noticeably to the male creatures who surrounded her was that the majority of her right-shoulder and an even more attention-grabbing part from her right breast which had been exposed due to the ragged state of the dark, grey tunic. Not that anyone of them noticed the colour of said piece of clothing. What they noticed was pale and firm, and although not of an outrageous seize it was not small either and seemed perfectly round.

The woman stood up and stepped out of the coffin which revealed a pair of smooth, pale legs which seemed to go on forever. The remains of a red sash had been tied around her waist, although the majority of what remained of this piece of cloth was still hidden underneath a heavily scarred belt from black leather. At her feet she wore the scratched and torn remains of a pair of dark, half-closed boots which reached halfway her shins which revealed their previous owner's occupation as one of Kronos' Thracian horsemen who had been far richer than herself.

Her first steps outside of the coffin were small and weak, almost wobbling and in return she reached for support against the block of molten stone as she exposed her canines in another growl. Then her hand disappeared for a second inside of the coffin and reappeared with the broken remains of a leather string which still contained a small number of inscribed, iron badges due to the knots which connected them to the thin strip of leather .

If he would have been honest Gnarl would have admitted he felt a bit torn, on the one hand he had hoped for a massive male warrior whose muscles alone would have seemed hard enough to blunt the edge of a blade. A second part of him however couldn't help but remember the succubus who had accompanied him for a number of years. The girl might have lacked a tail and wings, her body was obviously just as well developed for sin and corruption as the bat-winged seductress's.

The more calculating part of him however had noticed the subtle development of her muscles and the shape of her body which betrayed her sense of balance and her agility, as well as a greater strength than what at first had seemed likely.

The paleness of her skin was easy to explain, she had spent at least three years in a comatose condition without any light. Her survival was less easily explained due to the same reason though; however it was the lack of calluses and the occasionally rather grizzly scars upon her arms which somehow had failed to maim or cripple her which gave him the first indication for the related reason of her survival and yet this suspicion left him even more baffled than ever before. He dismissed those doubts for the moment though, instead he studied the expression upon her face, the emotions in her eyes and how she held her body.

He liked what he saw even more. Whilst the skin around her left eye looked red and the eye itself was still half shut due to the acid, the remaining eye seemed sharp and was filled with anger. Her head was held up high, whilst her open eye flashed across the Minions who appeared to have her surrounded. Her body might have been weak after all the years of slumber, but she still had the posture of a warrior who expected an attack. No, Gnarl corrected himself, it was far better, he realised as he studied her eyes and the tense muscles wherever they were visible. A natural predator, he thought as he was struck with the impression of a coiled snake just before the animal would throw itself forward with wide open jaws to snatch it's prey.

Gnarl stared at her for another moment and smirked, he recognized a threat when he saw one and no matter how smooth her skin was or how attractive she might have been, he knew he was gazing upon extraordinary dangerous one.

Gnarl wasted one last moment to stare at the new Overlord and then... he bowed as deep as his ancient body allowed him to do whilst he signaled the others to do the same.

The girl stared at the Minions, then she leaned back against the coffin, which made it seem as if she was relaxing her posture a bit but Gnarl couldn't help but notice the way her eyes kept peering around as if she expecting them to attack her the moment she exposed her back.

"Good." Gnarl thought with a rather grim sense of satisfaction. "This one might remain alive for a while."

* * *

"Good evening, Mistress." Gnarl began with a soft and rather smooth tone of voice. "I am Gnarl, Minion master and devoted servant of darkness."

"Mis ...Mistress?" The woman asked with a soft and rather confused voice.

Gnarled turned around and smirked although he hid his expression from her as he began walking towards the door at the other end of the hall which would lead them to the surface.

"The haziness will pass and your muscles will become limber again, mistress." He said. "You've been asleep for a long time."

"Asleep?"She asked disbelieving whilst following him. "What happened? ...For how long?"

"Three years, my lady." He told her. "Or that is the shortest possible time. There was a huge battle back then, it shook the tower to the ground and hundreds were killed whilst our previous lord, Kronos was defeated and torn apart. I suspect you are one of the survivors from that battle."

"Three years?" Penthesilea repeated after him, although the sound carried far enough for everyone to hear her.

"I remember a battle," she said as she remembered herself closing her hands around the leather wrapped shaft of a Minoan axe and the wild, maddened throng as both sides; humans, demigodlings, immortals and monsters mixed their blood with each other before the walls of the oldest of the Titan-held stronghold, upon them and eventually beyond them, upon the streets and in the palaces within the centre. She remembered herself waiting and staring as the first wave of soon to be dead men charged at the opposing lines underneath the walls and herself wondering whether or not she would be among the many who would sleep in the belly of one of the carrion-eaters... or worse, one of the man-eaters before the dark fell.

She recalled the call of a horn and her own legs forcing herself forwards as she charged forwards, all the while yelling in an attempt to drown out her own fear. She had survived! Arrows had fallen among them and yet, none of them had struck her. Then she had raised her axe and brought it down upon her first opponent, battering his spear away and his shield down until she slipped the edge of the weapon through the skin of his face which had blinded him, thus allowing one of the numerous spear bearers to pierce his belly.

Penthesilea stared off in the distance as a wave of images flew past her mental eyes, it was an inextricable, overwhelming mess of emotions and images, which left her with gaping holes in her memories.

Many had died... so many ... and more than a few by her own hand. And yet, there was a pull at the corner of her lips as she remembered the feeling of warm blood spraying over her skin.

"I remember the one you speak off, it feels shrouded as by a fog, but I'd swear it was days if not merely hours ago."

"It was three years." Gnarl corrected her. "I remember such days of bloodshed very well."

"Do you remember perhaps you name?" He asked her.

"My name was…no, it is Penthesilea, Penthesilea of Minoa."

"I see." Gnarl replied with a blasé voice, seemingly without giving it another moment of attention.

* * *

They reached a large open cavern which gave access to several stairs and empty caves. Most notable was a bunch of rocks slowly swirling around above a hole in the ground in a way that defied the laws of gravity. Next to that was a smaller hole which seemed to bathe in a soft yellow light.

Gnarl paused next to the hole and Penthesilea noticed several of the other Minions gathering around the smaller hole.

"This cavern," Gnarl told her, "is the spawning pit, my lady. This is where new Minions arrive and live."

Gnarl brushed his hand over his goatee. "Now you are here, You can call forth the Minions from this Minion-gate."

"How do I...," Penthesilea began, but Gnarl pointed at her left hand before his eyes widened and he hit himself upon the head before he made another deep bow in front of her.

"My apologies, Mistress." Gnarl whispered whilst he kept his head down. "With all the excitement I forgot to offer you your gauntlet."

Gnarl offered her a sheepish smile. "It is my age, you see? I keep forgetting things."

The old Minion bowed himself over the pit and began screaming in it, ten seconds of furious yelling and aggressive arm-waving later a new Minion appeared out of the hole. This Minion was easily recognisable due to his welding mask and the pair of goggles which covered the majority of his face as well as the strange combination of a leather apron and iron armour upon his body. Lastly, the Minion carried a forge hammer in his right hand whilst he clutched a wicket looking gauntlet of dark metal with a sharp talon at the tip of every finger and an eye-shaped, dark coloured jewel which had been inserted at the wrist, to his chest.

"My original expectations of you were," Gnarl began once more sounding rather sheepish, "well rather off, so I had to ask Giblet to fix that."

"After you've put the gauntlet on." Gnarl said whilst Penthesilea accepted the offered the gauntlet. "Raise your hand and use your will to command the Minions to come out of the hole!...Like this!"

A moment later five Minions jumped out the hole.

"Aah, look at those keen little evil faces," Gnarl said whilst he pretended to swoon, "ready to loot and pillage at your command!"

Penthesilea spared a moment to stare at the five Minions before she nodded and shoved the gauntlet over her left hand. For a single moment nothing seemed to happen and she prepared herself to raise her gloved hand, then she felt a sharp pain in her wrist as if five nails had been driven into her fragile flesh. Penthesilea instinctively reached for her pained lower-arm and closed her right-hand around the dark metal as she prepared to rip the gauntlet off and to throw the object as far away as possible. However as easy as the metal had slipped around her flesh, that hard it gripped her wrist. Penthesilea screamed in pain whilst she fell upon her knees because it felt to her as if the metal heated up as if an invisible dragon breathed his fire down upon the piece of armour. However it was not just the pain that caused this sudden panic, she couldn't tell whether it was real or merely her imagination but she felt the earlier mentioned nails melt and pass through her flesh like five living worms through rotten meat.

Then just when she felt she couldn't take it anymore, as if she would have preferred to tear her own limb off with her bare teeth rather than to keep enduring that pain... it began to fade away.

A loud, furious... even bloodthirsty growl escaped Penthesilea's mouth as she fixed her gaze upon Gnarl and she raised her metal-gloved but undoubtedly mutilated hand up to smite him with the long talons of the seemingly treacherous piece of armour he had handed over to her when said being cocked his head and the numerous other Minions crawled closer towards them.

Gnarl stared back at her with a perturbed expression before he closed his mouth and threw her a curious look.

"How strange..." He muttered with some actual surprise. "You carry the blood of Immortals within your veins and yet the mere touch of your flesh angers it before finding it's satisfaction."

Gnarl took a deep breath and lowered his head again.

"My...apologies...Mistress," He said with an unusually soft voice. "The Gauntlet often craves for the blood of victims and always demands the ichor of an immortal as his wielder but never before have I seen it bite the hand of the one who commands us with such a fierceness."

"What does that mean?" Penthesilea demanded whilst she instinctively tried to caress her captured limb.

"I don't know, mistress." Gnarl admitted. "The Gauntlet has accepted you, that much is obvious...for if he hadn't you would have been dead... but I suspect that it wants more than the legacy of immortality which you carry...he wants a genuine immortal... and yet he still accepted a demigoddess.

Gnarl pointed his own un-gloved left hand back at the hole.

"But...perhaps we should take care of more immediate issues first...before we start investigating one of the oldest and most valuable objects in our possession.

Penthesilea gave the minion a nod and pointed her iron-shod fingers back at the hole.

She gave the gauntlet a last suspicious look before she clawed her fingers and raised her hand up in a slow pulling motion.

Once again she felt a heat gather in her hand but this time it wasn't in her wrist. Instead, it began into the palm of her hand and she felt it first rise to the top of her fingers before it moved downwards. She felt the warmth spiral around through against the back of her wrist, as if it made at least a hundred different loops and spirals through dark jewel before it moved on and reached her chest where it dissipated. Like her pain earlier, the flow had been warm but this time it hadn't been painful, instead it had felt if she had pushed sore limb in warm water and whilst she felt a strain of a kind which she had never felt before, the feeling had been far from unpleasant. It was almost as if she had moved a muscle for the first time and her body cried out in joy in answer to the long-awaited exercise.

In the meanwhile, obviously accustomed to the aftermath of her new sensation, Gnarl inspected the five minions whom had shot from the hole.

Whilst Gnarl failed to mention anything about this small little detail, Penthesilea noticed that each of the Minions whom she called had rather curious eyes. These were yellow like the other Minions but far brighter, even to the point that she would describe them as glowing.

"Let us continue," Gnarl said eventually before he bowed once more and pointed his finger at one of the doors, "follow me if you wish to study the finer points of combat and Minion command."

"Of course, if you want to get straight to the smiting, then I shall meet you in the Throne Room upstairs." Gnarl continued whilst he pointed a long nail at another door.

Finally he concluded with: "Your Minions will follow you wherever you go, Mistress, unless you give them a different task."

Penthesilea stared at the Minions which she had called forth, and then she shook her head.

"I take commanding Minions is no different from commanding humans?" She asked as she threw a quick glance upon the gauntlet and as she recalled the warmth which seemed to flow through the metal she added: "except with some more control?"

"Indeed, my lady...at first. You're sure you don't need any lessons?"

Penthesilea nodded. "Lead the way!" She ordered him."

* * *

The main hall of the tower revealed how badly the stronghold had been ruined. This desolation seemed even worse because Penthesilea could somehow recall the former majesty of the ancient building. The columns which had supported the high ceiling had been damaged by hammers and projectiles until the point that a few of them had been broken. The walls had been breached and likewise assaulted by what might have been madmen with hammers and even fire if she interpreted the scorch marks correctly. She noticed even some gaps and tears in the floor. There were still banners hanging from the ceiling but these were dull, grey, scorched and torn.

Upon the ground, there was rubble everywhere, some of this existed out of timbers and rocks which seemed to have been gathered by the Minions in an attempt to repair some of the worst damages or at least to cover some of the gaps but most of them had most likely been thrown down during the looting of the tower and had scarcely been touched afterwards if the thick layer of dust was any indication.

Penthesilea recognized some of the stairs going down and even the broken remains from one which went up, to what had been Atlas' private chambers. Each of the doors, whether it lead down or upwards had been broken though and the remains of the passages had been barricaded with pieces of timber to stop the remaining Minions from entering or leaving through them. Furthermore there were numerous streaks of green from mosses and weeds amidst the grey and sandy colours of the stones.

Even the throne at the end of the hall had not been spared, neither by the hammers nor by nature.

Penthesilea slowly walked towards the throne and stretched her hand out towards the broken pieces of obsidian. She felt another wave of warmth coursing through her body, which began at the tips of her gauntlet as if the piece of armour recognized the throne and felt gladdened to see it.

"Alas, one cannot be a bastion of Evil these days without wretched heroes and meddling deities lining up to prove themselves!" Gnarl exclaimed from behind her, which made her almost jump up from surprise.

"How was it possible that she had forgotten about him?" Penthesilea asked herself whilst she turned her head towards the ancient Minion.

"That last lot and their followers were particularly bothersome, killing a predecessor like that." Gnarl told her before he tsked.

Penthesilea snorted in reply. However after that she felt some more of the hazes inside of her skull disappear and she realised that something in his choice of words gave her an instinctive impulse to narrow her eyes. She forced her body to ignore that impulse for now.

"Still... you're here now, my lady, Evil will always find a way."

Gnarl turned away from the throne and pointed his finger at the massive opening in the outer wall as he began walking towards the gap.

"As you can see," He said whilst Penthesilea followed him, "they looted and destroyed much of the tower."

He continued with an almost pleased voice though. "But this is merely a setback for the forces of darkness, my lady. You are our new Overlord!"

"Rebuild your tower," he reminded her, "establish your dark domain!"

He finished with, now far sounding more gleeful. "And punish those so-called heroes and godlings!"

In front of the two, just before the gap in the outer wall, there was a pool with murky green water.

"This is the Tower Portal, my lady." Gnarl told her as he waved his hand across the pool.

"Sadly," he admitted with a disappointed voice, "it is missing it's power source, the Tower Heart."

"However," he continued upon a conspiratory tone, "there is still a tiny bit of energy left. It is just enough to transport you to the last known location of the Tower Heart."

"When you are ready, my lady, step through the Gate! I shall follow you to the other side."

Penthesilea's eyes narrowed after Gnarl words. "And where exactly is the other side of the Gate?" She asked upon a venomous tone.

Gnarl paused for a moment, but then he smiled. "It most likely isn't overly far from here. I doubt it is beyond the borders of the land of Tamalpais."

"I see," Penthesilea replied upon a frosty tone, "then please explain to me, why you think it would be safe for someone like me in Tamalpais?"

Gnarled stared at her for another moment, then he nodded again.

"Very well, my lady." He said. "I forgot you aren't aware of how much the situation has changed in the past three years."

Gnarl reached for a stick and started to draw a map in the dust.

"As you without a doubt are aware, the world has always been divided in several poleis, each of which is in turn split in several territories usually based on the presence of powerful cities, villages and hillforts."

Penthesilea nodded. This was rather basic information.

"Until a little over a century ago, this world was solely dominated by those chosen strongholds of the foremost Titans like Atlas' Tamalpais and Kronos' Othrys. However the rise of the Olympians was accompanied by a number of new powers who connected their fate to that of their chosen deities." Gnarl continued. "Of course, every few years one of the smaller poleis and lesser deities tries to gain more influence and is usually crushed into the dust by those who are stronger than them."

The Minion shrugged. "They're rarely worth the trouble to remember their name."

"What you don't know is that the situation changed enormously after the rise of the latest Olympian Alliance and the invasion of Tamalpais." Gnarl told her.

"Both Sparta and Argos suffered tremendous casualties amongst the warriors and levies which participated in the assault upon the borders of Tamalpais. Casualties which became even greater due to the counterattack from Atlas, some of Kronos' fastest and most ambitious lieutenants and finally the smaller villages which had chosen to ally with Tamalpais and Othrys or whom worshiped the Titans outright. Whilst they failed to drive the Allied Poleis out, they succeeded in destroying the active expedition-forces of Athens' most powerful allies, which left only a small number of survivors behind who returned to their own poleis as fast as possible. This left only the original invaders from Athens, as well as their closest allies from Plataea, Mycenae and their ...ally Minoa within the borders of Tamalpais who after the display of Kronos's body and tearing it apart gained numerous reinforcements from their own villages whom eventually succeeded in destroying most of Kronos' loyalists."

"So Argos and Sparta were severely weakened, whilst Athens came out the best from the invasion?" She asked.

Gnarl grinned. "Ooh no, that was just the start of what followed."

"If I remember correctly, there were rumours about a conflict between the senatorial families of Rome around the time of the start of the campaign against Othrys, no?"

Penthesilea shrugged. "There are always _actual _conflicts between the seven hills, even the foundation of the city was followed by fratricide." She said.

"Indeed." Gnarl replied with a pleased voice. "However, this time it was far more than mere rumours."

Penthesilea fixed her green eyes upon Gnarl's yellow eyes.

"It seemed one of the consuls had decided that he would no longer tolerate any kind of interference and he tried to break the power of his colleague and the senate completely."

Penthesilea blinked, she hadn't met a lot of Romans before, but she had heard stories about them and those left her with a strong suspicion about the way those would react.

"As you can imagine, the other senatorial clans didn't like that particular idea nor the person who delivered the message." Gnarl told her whilst he was obviously enjoying himself with recalling those tales of bloodshed and treason.

"The 2nth cohort killed the messenger and ambushed the centuries of the 1th, 3rd and 6th which the consul send in revenge." Gnarl grinned when he continued. "Other cohorts were not so lucky and they were attacked inside their own camps, towns and houses. Quite a few lines and famous families became extinct."

Gnarl paused for a moment. "Of course you can imagine how the survivors reacted in return."

"A civil war." Penthesilea whispered, obviously surprised."

Gnarl chuckled evilly. "No, it was far from civil. It is nowadays known as The War Without Mercy. After a couple of victories from the "rebels" the consul was rumoured to have gone mad, some even say one of the Gods or Titans took over, but either way battles quickly turned into carnage like I've rarely seen before."

Gnarl grinned at her. "I doubt the place has retained so much as a tenth of their original population and even less of their original allies."

"I see, what about Themiskyra? I can't imagine them keeping the peace in such a situation."

"They made an attempt to gain some territories of Byzantium, Athens and Troy, unfortunately for them that backfired horribly."

Gnarl grinned again. "A new age had begun," he said almost whispering, "a new power had risen and thus began the rise of the Glorious Empire of the Golden Man."

"The Golden Man?" Penthesilea asked him.

"Chrysaor, The Golden Man? Medea's Chosen Husband? The king of Colchis? He promised to make the world a better place," Gnarl proclaimed with some mock-admiration in his voice before he continued on a faster, much flatter tone, "and those who disagreed were killed, enslaved and had other nasty things done to them."

"Chrysaor, the Empire of the Golden Man?" Penthesilea repeated obviously baffled.

Gnarl nodded. "Did you hear about the Giants?" He asked her.

"They're some kind of would-be Titans aren't they? Sons of Gaia. I believe they originated from a coupling between her and Tartaros but they were locked up centuries ago."

"Indeed!" Gnarl said darkly but obviously pleased with her reply. "However, they're Chrysaor's own patrons and when I consider how they acted throughout the Titan wars, the War Without Mercy and their actions during the Wars of Amazonian Aggression, I'd say Chrysaor planned the rise of his empire pretty well with their aid, they played those nations like a fiddle."

"Even more important for you to know though, my Lady." Gnarl continued upon dark but now warning tone. "is that the warriors of Colchis are rumoured to hunt the descendants of the Olympian Gods for their Godly ancestor's crimes against their own patrons and they're supposed to have slaughtered quite a lot of the Trojan and Amazonian Demigodlings."

Penthesilea groaned in frustration, but deep down inside of her, her anger intensified.

"Thus in a short recap, Athens and Mycenae suffered many losses but both gained a massive amount of land and influence due to the invasion in return, whilst their most important but less powerful allies suffered massive casualties and became therefore more dependent upon them in the face of another threat. So did a more powerful but less reliable ally who is therefore less likely to become that particular threat. Rome has lost most of its influence outside of their own borders and is most likely done for. Troy and Themiskyra still exist but became far less powerful in numbers, influence and land... and they might have come under the direct influence of a third party. And finally this powerful new player which is highly unlikely to look at me positively has appeared."

"Most likely every single one of those nations will also be hunting me due to my awakening within the ruins of Atlas' former Stronghold and my command over some of Kronos's own forces." She added mentally.

Penthesilea had her eyes once more drill into Gnarl's. "What happened to Minoa in specific?" She asked. "And is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"Minoa has suffered a short civil-war due to a conflict between the king and the head-priestess of the Snake-Goddess who still happens to be Minos' wife." Gnarl told her with a disparaging voice, as if he disagreed with the human couple's decision to settle their differences quickly before adding a bit of humour in his tone which betrayed that he found the last part of that sentence particularly entertaining. "A lot of their levies and lesser warriors ended up killing each other before the survivors of the expedition-force came home though. The most notable part of the settlement was the banishment of one of her priestesses to Delphi where she became the new oracle. Although that might not have changed a lot for her since she was already a Seer or so I've been told."

He noticed the way Penthesilea tightened her fists, which made her visible skin pale even further.

"They wouldn't." She hissed to herself. It was just another gaping wound in her chest, just one of the many, like she had felt so many times before.

"They swore!" She added and yet it was a feeling she was more than familiar with. At times it surprised her that she still felt some pain when it happened, especially that she still felt some pain for being disregarded after being dead in the eyes of almost everyone first.

She grinded her teeth together. "They made us swear an oath in exchange for their own. Our service... our loyalty...our devotion in exchange for our lives and their protection."

"They might have ... as it was their time and they could do so without fearing you." Gnarl told her dismissively but with a cruel glint in his eyes.

"But they were wrong, my Lady… " He continued with an obvious eagerness in every word he spoke. "Because now it is your time, Mistress! Time to crash the party, time to crush the others and time to bring back the black!"

She could practically hear the maniacal grin in his voice. "Unleash the Minions of war!"

Truthfully, she felt a similar grin tug at the corner of her mouth.

She cast a last look upon her pale face reflection in the water and allowed a cruel grin to shine through, a moment later her grin was hidden behind an improvised mouth mask which she had created from one of the black, torn banners. She threw a piece of grey cloth over her shoulders and connected both ends by sliding the knotted leather tong of her necklace through a pair of holes and she reached for the small cleaver which lay upon a block of wood. The knife was heavy and not overly sharp, but it would do.

She didn't trust Gnarl and she suspected that even when he spoke the truth, that he would undoubted twist every word to his own advantage...but she didn't doubt that he had spoken the truth. The oath was broken...Delphi was out of her reach and neither Minos nor Pasiphaë would ever allow for competition. She would regain what she could… and then she would make them pay...for every bit of pain they caused her, for every moment of humiliation she had sacrificed to their service, for every second of fear and isolation they had forced upon her, ….

Gnarl stared at her and walked towards the pool knowing that he would see her again at the other end of the Gate.

"After all," he said to himself when he walked down the stairs of the pool. "Evil will always find a way!"

* * *

When Penthesilea appeared on the other side, she stood in the middle of a demi-circle of huge stone plates. Each of the heavy slabs was adorned with a grinning, misshapen face which featured a prominent mouth and long ears, these were most likely depictions of Minions. The landscape around her was luscious and green, with plenty of hills, trees and a huge amount of large sunflowers. All around her, she heard the chirping and singing of birds which were mostly hidden by the green branches of the numerous trees which surrounded the open space.

The gate was positioned upon a hill which gave her a perfect view of the surrounding landscape and she instinctively looked around her for any sign of life. Her attention was drawn for a moment by some grey amidst of the green and brown of the land. This, she recognized as a small wall, the last remains of a tower or a villa or so. Several paces away, but half hidden by a lower hill she caught a glimpse of some sheep. When she walked out of the circle, the ground next to her began to quake and she saw four large molehills rise up from the earth as if she had witnessed the millions of years which are required for the growth of a volcano in the past two seconds. Then to top it off one of those earthen hills began to give a vague brown or yellow light off.

"Aah, you made it through the gate, my lady." Gnarl said to her whilst he slowly crawled out of the hole.

"This tranquil wilderness, ... so rural and idyllic. Hideous is it not? Try not to inhale it, Mistress."

Penthesilea resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead she showed an angelic kind but somewhat mischievous smile which would have made every member of her "hometown" in Minoa shiver, if she would have done so near said place.

She was not planning to do anything to Gnarl, though, but it seemed like it was enough of a warning to the Minion to quickly change the subject.

"You can summon your Minions from these Gates, Mistress. There are ancient arcane links between your Tower and this land." He explained to her whilst pointing at the four molehills. "Currently you can only summon Brown Minions though, my lady , these are your main-fighters. You must find the other lost Minion tribes before you can summon their members."

Gnarl faced away from her and started to gaze over the landscape.

"Kronos gathered a huge amount of valuable relics and objects during the early days of his reign in the Tower, perhaps we can recover some of the looted Tower Objects in this... lush, verdant abomination."

Penthesilea nodded in reply and pointed her gauntlet at the Brown Minion Gate. It took scarcely another moment before five Minions had jumped out of the pit and landed upon the ground. Each of the small creatures was dressed in a rather dirty looked loincloth and had armed himself with a simple, wooden club. Like their predecessors, these Minions had glowing yellow eyes.

As she moved down the path Penthesilea noticed a fallen pillar which blocked off one arm of the crossroads.

Further down the unobstructed arm of the road, there were a few sheep which trotted down next to the path, all the while they were bleating loudly, the sight made Gnarl grind his teeth with an obvious anger.

For a single second he just stared at them, but then he made an annoyed, pointing motion with his arm and two of her Minions charged at them. The first and fastest of the two reached the largest of the sheep before the animal could turn around. A moment later the Minion had jumped upon it's back and started clubbing the animal's skull with an obvious glee. The sheep kept bleating whilst the Minion's club rose and fell, a first thud, a second and then a crunch whilst the animal sank upon the ground. In the meanwhile the second Minion had chased after another animal, but this one, smaller and faster as well as further away from them had noticed the danger and turned around, now being chased by the sadistic creature.

Penthesilea frowned at the spectacle. Her frown deepened even further when she saw a yellow light appear from the sheep. Her earlier disapproval was replaced by curiosity.

"Evil Energy," Gnarl explained to her. "every living creature gathers it over time. This is only one of the many abilities of your Gauntlet, my lady. It allows you to see and gather this energy. You can use the energy to call more Minions from the Netherworld and for many other purposes like imbuing items with them or to acquire the use of spells. With age and experience, more energy is build up inside the creature, so older and more dangerous creatures are more likely to give you more energy."

"Roughly put," Penthesilea said to him, "if I want to have an army I'll have to slaughter an entire army first."

Gnarl stared at her with a hint of approval. "Indeed, my lady."

"The order is a bit off, no?" Penthesilea asked him. "Slaughter an army without an army of my own?"

Penthesilea shook her head and muttered. "And people say it is easy being evil."

Gnarl sniggered in return and watched as Penthesilea raised her armoured hand up before she clawed her fingers like the talons of a hawk. The five Minions formed a line and ran towards the remaining sheep, a few animals ran past them but the majority of the little pack was trapped between the cliffs which ended at least twenty feet above the stream, the steep hills which were topped off with a small, ancient looking fence and finally the five brutally grinning Minions who were running a hand over the head of their clubs.

Then the claw was closed which turned it into a steel covered fist and the Minions ran forward. In a matter of moments ten sheep were slaughtered.

"Good, my lady." Gnarl whispered with a pleased voice. "You must build up your army before you can summon more Minions from the gate."

Penthesilea shrugged. Truthfully, killing the animals distasteful as it was, meant little to her, if anything it was too easy.

Moments later the glowing yellow orbs appeared and the Minions ran towards her, each with one of the orbs into their arms.

"For the Mistress," They exclaimed as they offered them to her and Penthesilea smiled in return. Their devotion and obvious affection made it once again feel as if a pleasant warmth coursed through her body.

"Stupid pointless creatures!" Gnarl sneered as he looked at some of the slain animals.

Penthesilea made another motion with her hand and the Minions returned to the fallen animals, hoisted them upon their shoulders and began running back towards the portal.

"There is no point in leaving them to rot here." Penthesilea said with a dismissive tone of voice. "Flesh and wool is too useful to go to waste."

"Of course, my lady." Gnarl simply said in reply, although the tone of his voice seemed to imply he held very little interest in those matters.

Penthesilea noticed a few more sheep along the cliffs and walked towards them. "A few more souls for her army," she thought, then she noticed several urns and crates near the edge of the cliffs.

"These urns ahead may yield something beneficial." Gnarl added whilst pointing at them. "There is nothing Minions like more than breaking things! Well, apart from killing things!"

The Minions who had now caught up with her stared at the objects and Penthesilea made another motion with her hand, which steered the five screaming towards the urns. She heard the sound of the wood and clay that was shattered and then one of the Minions raced back towards her as he held a small bowl with pieces of copper and even one of silver out. "For the mistress!" He exclaimed whilst offering it to her as if it was some kind of sacrifice, she couldn't help but grant him a small smile whilst accepting the money.

Another of the Minions had found what looked like the remains of a scythe-blade and held it above his head in triumph whilst proclaiming loudly, "For me!"

Penthesilea chuckled softly, it was as if she commanded a bunch of highly aggressive but loyal children who yearned for her affection. Her eyes darkened for a moment after that thought, they were not too unlike herself until a couple of years ago.

She turned around again, her earlier good mood had been spoiled for the moment and she returned to the crossroads with Gnarl and the other five Minions upon her trail. One arm of the crossroads had been blocked by a fallen pillar and a huge boulder. "Our way is blocked," Gnarl said whilst pointing at the pillar. "But we have strength in numbers, use all your Minions on that pillar and they will work together to move it."

Penthesilea gave a small snort, it wasn't as if she wasn't aware of the fact. But she still followed the suggestion and ordered her Minions to move the pillar.

As she followed the path behind the pillar, she noticed a small, rather poor looking hovel which was surrounded by a huge amount of vegetables. She frowned when she noticed the four figures amidst the crops.

"Had the owner decided to use some kind of priceless antique statues as a scarecrow?" She asked herself in wonder. As she got closer she realized that the statues were far too realistic to not be terribly real.

The four people had been tied to a cross and now sat upon their knees, their faces hung down. She counted three adult men and a young girl, a child who could have been no older than twelve.

Penthesilea raised her armoured hand and signaled her Minions to stay back. As she got closer she heard the numerous flees buzzing around their heads and she felt her unprotected fingers tightening their grip upon the cleaver. Then she bended down upon one knee, the young woman slowly reached out with her armoured hand and raised the head of the girl up. The youth's skin was burned by the sun and her features were dirtied and partly hidden by dust and filth, but she was obviously dead. Then there was a soft cough to her left. Penthesilea turned her head in return and pointed it in the direction of the sound. One of the men had raised his head a bit and now stared at her.

"Come to ... finish us ... off?" He asked with a rough, dry voice.

Penthesilea ignored his question and carefully placed the blade against the rope around his left wrist. "Who did this?" She asked him instead.

"Some of your... friends did... of course." He whispered.

"I has been years since I was a member of the Alliance!" Penthesilea muttered softly as she began to saw through the ropes which kept his arms strapped to the wood.

He raised his head a bit lower as he stared at the brass buckle of her belt which was shaped like a bulls-head before he fixed his eyes upon the remains of the Owl-symbol which had once adorned the battleflag which was now little more than a crude and tattered cloak which covered the young woman's shoulders and chest.

"It is safer if you're travelling through territory of the Alliance." Penthesilea said as she adopted a tone which implied that this answer should have been obvious.

"Doesn't work..." The man whispered to her. "Tried that, ... caught us instantly."

"That explains why they're left hanging like this." Penthesilea thought. "These idiots killed some warriors and thought to sneak off."

She shook her head. "Serfs trying to play warriors." She thought dismissively. "They hadn't stood a chance...these people should have realized that they were no more able to pretend being warriors of the Alliance than a five year old could pretend to be an adult. There would have been so many tells which betrayed them...their posture, the expression upon their faces, the calluses upon their hands, the way they walked or their accent if they even got as far to open their mouth. There would have been no need for a password or anything subtle. Their disguise would have been seen through in less than a heartbeat."

Another shallow intake of breath. The man was dying and he knew it, but his suffering hadn't ended yet.

"They're in the farm." He whispered hastily. "Still there, waiting to kill whoever tries to help us."

Penthesilea nodded, she showed him a small, confident smile. "Of course they are."

"Don't let them...My daughter..." the man began as he shook feverishly, which made Penthesilea nod again whilst she sawed through the last remaining rope.

"She's is no longer in pain." Penthesilea whispered softly as she allowed him to fall down. "She's happy and waiting for you to come to her."

A small shiver went through his body, but he smiled.

Penthesilea allowed the man to slide down to the ground and slowly dragged the bloodied, unprotected fingers from her right hand across the man's eyelids, which closed his unseeing eyes, then she pulled her bloodied hatchet from between his ribs.

For a moment Penthesilea slumped down and pretended to fight against the urge to vomit, then she dragged her bloodied hand across her face and hid some of her features underneath the layer of red.

From the corner of her eye she noticed the movement in the farm.

Three armoured warriors stormed out, the three had obviously been observing her after noticing they noticed her approach, the bullhead upon her belt and the improvised mask over her mouth.

Penthesilea instantly noticed the trident upon their small shields, their mostly bare legs and feet as well as the extraordinary length of the spear which one of them carried. None of the figures was very large or broad in the shoulders, however each of them looked sinewy, lean and tough, this last characteristic was made evident by the numerous scars which they carried upon their exposed limbs.

"Athenian marines!" Those words pierced all other thoughts instantly and made her almost hiss upon the spot.

"Why did you kill him?" The first of them, a dark haired woman asked her with an emotionless voice and a large, double-bladed axe in her hand which drew the former Minoan's attention instantly.

Penthesilea took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself and lowered her mask to expose some of her lower features before she turned around and walked to the other "scarecrows".

Before she turned around, she had seen the seemingly spastic motions of the woman's free hand though and she noticed the movement of the other two marines as their shadows seemed to box her in.

"He was already dead, I simply ended his suffering." Penthesilea replied with a dismissive tone of voice whilst she began to put a greater emphasis upon her Minoan accent.

"The man was a murderer, he killed two of our settlers!" The woman, whom Penthesilea suspected was the leader of the Marines, said coldly. "This was an acceptable retaliation."

"His daughter?" Penthesilea asked in return whilst she raised her hatchet. Truthfully, she couldn't care less about a murderer getting killed, but she hadn't missed the fact that neither the dead man nor the woman had said anything about the other two serfs or even the girl being involved with the double murder. Neither had she missed the fact that it were Athenian marines, the scum of their army and not horsemen or even one of the few remaining officers or officials who had meted out the "justice". Truth to be told, it would have surprised her if those did. Athens feared her own population too much, it was so much easier to pin the blame of "unfortunate" acts like these upon some of those poorly disguised pirates and troublemakers whilst placating the countrymen of their victims with empty promises.

"I thought so." Penthesilea sneered as she sawed through the ropes around the girl's left wrist.

Behind her she heard the scraping of an iron weapon leaving it's wood and bronze scabbard.

As she kept her back turned towards them Penthesilea smirked. They might have moved to surround her, but now she stood between them and the protection of the farm whilst their own backs were turned towards the direction she had come from.

"Fools!" Penthesilea thought whilst she closed her clawed gauntlet and turned around to face the marines.

The Minions reached them almost instantly. One grabbed the legs of the spear-bearing marine who stood closest to him whilst the second jumped upon the man's back. The combination of shock and weight forced the man upon his belly. A third Minion, the one with the scythe-blade stabbed down and pierced the marine's back.

The leader died when she stepped back to evade the attack from the fourth Minion and Penthesilea's blade cut her throat in a lazy, almost nonchalant motion. Slowly, almost disbelieving the woman reached for her neck and only when she noticed the blood upon her fingers did the eyes behind her brass helmet dilate.

She gazed at Penthesilea with wide eyes, showing her that despite the ice in her veins nothing upon this earth would ever have succeeded in making a human truly emotionless. In contrast to her, Penthesilea's features were crimson-stained, but her lips curled into a small smile nonetheless.

The last marine succeeded in evading the fifth Minion and after seeing both of his comrades getting slaughtered in a matter of seconds, he turned around and fled. The Minion tried to follow him but the man was an exceptional sprinter and the creature threw his club at him in an attempt to stop the man. The club struck his left leg at the thigh but it failed to do much more than slow him down for a bit.

Behind him Penthesilea bent down and reached for the axe which their spokeswoman had failed to use. There was a glint of metal when she raised her arm and a fluent motion later, there was the dull sound of an impact before the man fell face-down. One of the two axe-blades was buried into the small of his back. A final motion of Penthesilea's gauntlet and the five Minions swarmed over him, their weapons were raised and fell back down again for a last time. When they returned both their weapons and their hands were splattered with blood.

"For you, Mistress." Shrieked one of the little creatures as he offered her a leather pouch with coins.

"For the Overlord!" Two others said whilst they offered her a yellow ball of Evil Energy.

Penthesilea smirked as she received the energy, she had already gathered the third and a fourth ball from her own victims. Now they had been released from their burdens, those Minions ran off to loot the fallen bodies as well.

The one with the scythe-blade was proudly sporting the brass helmet from his victim, the second now wore some leather gauntlets, whilst the third was busy using his captured short-sword and a couple of belts to adjust the linen cuirass to his seize. The fourth however had taken the second short-sword whilst he now curiously enough sported a carved out pumpkin which he was proudly wearing as a helmet. Lastly the fifth had decided to pick a pair of leather pauldrons and now ran towards her sporting the double-bladed war-axe which looked almost comically large in his hands.

"For the Mistress?" He asked her.

Penthesilea nodded instantly and closed her bare, bloodstained right-hand around red leather which had been wrapped around the wooden haft the weapon. The axe was a large and fairly slow weapon in comparison to the short-swords and spears but it was one with which she was familiar, upon a more practical note the weapon was also so closely associated with the Minoans and the Amazons that someone who only saw her from a distance was fairly likely to mistake her for a proper remnant of the Minoan forces or a mercenary. Still after everything that happened in her past, she would have preferred to quit that particular association with her former nation altogether.

"Gather all the bodies and hide them in the house." Penthesilea ordered the five Minions. "Afterwards loot the place."

In the back of her head, Penthesilea hoped to burn the building down at a later point, that way she could grant the poor souls and their killers at least a somewhat decent funeral.

"Excellently done, My Lady." Gnarl complimented her as he observed the Minions who seemed intent on tearing down the house. "I've noticed a path beyond the house which if I recall correctly will lead us to the main-village in this part of Tamalpais."

"There will be more Athenians in the neighborhood then." Penthesilea remarked. "We'd better be careful."

"Indeed, My Lady." Gnarl agreed whilst he sported an even larger grin then before. "however... if they do then we'll simply have to kill them."

Penthesilea accepted another small amount of treasure and set off with her Minions in tow.

* * *

Along the way, Penthesilea had the little creatures destroy a small amount of barrels and vessels which gained her another number of coins.

"Why did these contain money?" She asked Gnarl absentminded.

The imp -like creature shrugged in reply. "There is a war going on, furthermore I am aware of the amount of taxes which both Athens and Tamalpais demands from those whom they subject, I'd guess the locals simply believed it better to hide their valuables."

Penthesilea simply shrugged. "It's possible, strange maybe, but it matters little anyway."

Several yards behind the house, Penthesilea noticed a pulled up drawbridge which gave access to the land beyond the river, a river which ran at the bottom of a small ravine next to the road. More importantly, in front of the drawbridge lay three sleeping, heavy set hoplites. Some levies from the lower classes, she suspected as she eyed their lack of cuirasses or gambesons, although their age left them far beyond the inexperience and youth which was usually associated with this kind of nonchalance.

Penthesilea was well aware that she couldn't risk being discovered, whether it was due to the bodies in the destroyed building or by failing to sneak past them, Penthesilea knew there was only one choice left.

As she accompanying her five Minions, the six snuck closer and struck, one of them targeted the man's unprotected heart whilst the other aimed for the hoplite's exposed throat. The three men died instantly and without a chance to scream.

"Incompetent idiots," Penthesilea muttered in disgust, "no wonder that an untrained serf was capable of killing two of them."

"Indeed, Mistress." Gnarl muttered with an obvious disappointment whilst the Elder Minion rejoined his Overlord and the other five Minions. "This almost takes the pleasure out of seeing them getting killed."

It was another twenty minutes later, just beyond a forested corner of the path above the stream that Gnarl's tone changed.

"The Tower heart!" He whispered with a voice which almost sounded as if it was filled with reverence for the object.

There was a massive blue orb which shone with a pale white glow lying in the field. Surrounding the orb there was a massive amount of vegetables and each of them was larger, healthier and tastier looking than any vegetable ever ought to look. "Those idiots must have used it to grow those vegetables." Gnarl muttered, now sounding upset. "Those impudent fools! They have no idea of the real power it contains."

Gnarl shook his head and sighed. "Quickly, my Lady." He whispered to her. "Grab it and get it back to the Tower."

He paused for a moment and continuing ominously. "Before someone comes along who does knows about its power."

Penthesilea and her Minions shot forward through the field whilst they trampled the vegetables under their feet. Before Penthesilea could lay a hand upon the orb though, Gnarl spoke up.

"Use your Minions to carry it for you, Mistress. Being the Overlord means you will never have to sprain a muscle by lifting something heavy."

For a moment Penthesilea hesitated, then she shrugged. It was not as if her Minions seemed to require her help lifting it anyway. More importantly though, it actually made sense to have someone abstain from carrying the orb. This way at least one of them was able to act if something went wrong.

When she pointed her gaze behind her Penthesilea swore softly, there was no way they could carry the orb back the same way they came. Even if it would get past the farm, they would need to carry it exposed for the entire distance across the path next to the stream. The luck they required to carry it for all that time and still remain unseen would get her thrown out of every gambling ring in the world.

Instead she decided to follow the current path and see where it would lead her. Considering how her missions usually evolved from easy and somewhat tiresome to are-you-mad-for-trying-that and give-Hades-my-regards, this was most likely the entire Sacred Band of Thebes under Heracles's direct command but at least she could hope to hide from those.

After a mile or so, Penthesilea recognized the massive rock slabs from the Tower Portal on the other side of a much smaller, lower stream. Once she had noticed the ruins on both sides of the stream, Penthesilea walked to one of the older ones which stood closest to the river. Penthesilea gave a few short kicks against the lower stones to test their strength. Pleased with the sound it made and the small shiver of the stones, Penthesilea threw herself against the rocks and gave a grunt as she made the water underneath it drag the sand and mud back into the river. For a few moments nothing seemed to happen, then she heard a soft crack as the roots which had kept the remaining earth together gave way beneath the weight of their burden and she jumped back. A shudder went through the stones and the ruined wall seemed to cave in. With a sound that seemed to imitate a thunderclap, the stones fell down and most of them disappeared beneath the surface of the water. A few particularly large and smooth pieces of wall remained on top and as thus they formed a crude bridge to the other side.

"It seems you discovered a short-cut, Mistress."Gnarl added with a smirk before he began yelling orders at the other Minions, telling them to carry the Tower Heart properly, to work faster, ...

After they placed the massive orb upon the stone floor of the Tower Portal, the Tower Heart disappeared with a red flash. A moment later Penthesilea placed her own sandals upon the stone floor and closed her eyes, then she too disappeared.

* * *

**Tamalpais is the name of the American mountain upon which garden of the hesperides was located in the canon.**

**For those who are wondering and yes it is actually associated with Atlas rather than Kronos in my story as well. However Kronos as the Titan King is officially the owner of basically every stronghold which belongs to the Titans. He simply allows the other "lesser" Titans command of these places. Tamalpais (as one of the Titan's oldest strongholds) was both a magnificent gift as well as a brilliant security for him. Since it was a particularly powerful stronghold it could defend the borders of the Titan lands very well and Atlas as one of the most powerful and aggressive of the Titans was very well suited for the task. However by simultaneously refusing him command of the Minions (Atlas didn't mind because he had dismissed them as too small and weak to be of use except as fodder...Kronos made it a point to hide the potential and strength of some of his instruments in case of a revolt in his family), due to this Kronos made certain that he could take his old Tower back at any given moment.  
Unfortunately for Kronos, the absence of Atlas and his own underestimating of the invading force meant that it was not so much his own lack of preparation and power which ended up killing him but his wariness of his (potential) competition and his unwillingness to use his preparations due to the fear that they could be more useful later. Once their Overlord "died", most of the Minions scattered, fled and made their homes in isolated areas where they waited for a new Overlord to call them into his or her service, Gnarl on the other hand, he took a more proactive approach.**

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	2. Is still capable of hurting them

**And here it is the second chapter, enjoy.**

**As always, gratitude to my loyal Beta Lord Protector Corvo Attano**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to Percy Jackson, nor do I have shares in Triumph Studios (or it's own overlord Paradox Interactive) or Codemasters, so no ownership there either.**

* * *

Evil Always Finds A Way

"It is back where it belongs." Gnarl said reverently whilst he, Penthesilea and the other Minions stared at the massive orb which seemed to float above the pool. "This is the heart of the Tower, my Lady. It will play a vital role in helping re-establish your dark domain!"

Then orb began to lower itself, submerging itself in the water before it seemed to fade away.

"It will allow you to visit the Tower whenever you wish and provide you with access to all of the Tower's features and resources." Gnarl continued.

Then the Minion turned around and blinked in surprise.

"And look, my Lady." He said. "It seems it even bestowed some little gifts upon you."

After she turned around, Penthesilea noted the two gargoyles on the wall behind her throne, twelve feet above the ground. One of them was in the shape of a brutal looking dragon's head which seemed to contain a dark inner fire.

"Ha! It seems to have retained some of it's spells! The fireball spell!" Gnarl announced with a pleased voice, obviously thinking about the numerous forms of calamity it could cause before he continued to comment. "Robust fellow. I should have known he'd make it!"

The other "Gargoyle" was in the shape of a beautiful, scantily clad woman with a pair of bat-like wings and an arrow-shaped tail. Despite her beauty, she seemed rather cruel and cold, but even as a stone image, Penthesilea could feel her hypnotic allure.

"The Evil Presence spell, Mistress." Gnarl whispered and this time his voice contained an obvious admiration as well as a poorly disguised trace of surprise.

"This one is..." he paused for a moment as he began searching for the right words. "very rare," Gnarl continued whilst he seemed unable to ascertain whether it was a question or an observation. "I am surprised the heart retained it considering how fragile it is."

After he regained his more professional tone, the Minion continued his explanation. "She allows you to dominate or even to seduce your victims, which might bring them completely over to your side."

"She'll be a heavy drain on your magic though, so I advise you to use it wisely, but some of things I've seen her do."

Gnarl sighed wishfully and turned towards a large cylindrical stone which seemed to bathe in yellow energy.

"This reinforces your control over the Minions, my Lady. From now on you can summon up to ten Minions upon the battlefield."

Penthesilea turned her head to Gnarl so fast that it should have given her a whiplash.

"I'll teach you how to use the spells when the need arises." Gnarl continued seemingly unperturbed. "But I urge you, my Lady, find more missing Tower Objects!"

"Hold your horses, Gnarl!" Penthesilea told her Minion Master. "Ten Minions! The way you talked about it, you seemed to speak about entire armies of Minions and ten is definitely no army."

Gnarl groaned, obviously displeased but in agreement nonetheless. "Indeed, my lady. Most previous Overlords did indeed control entire armies of Minions but there are still limitations to overcome."

"Explain!" She ordered him with a cold voice whilst she seated herself upon the broken throne.

Despite his annoyance, Gnarl couldn't help but smirk once more.

"Evil Overlord indeed!" He whispered to himself as he stared at the woman who reminded him all of the suddenly far more of her grandfather.

After he adopted a more dignified posture, Gnarl tapped his nail against her gauntlet. "This is an ancient device which was created ages ago by some of the greatest forge-masters and mages. It is linked to the entire race of Minions and it grants the one who controls the Gauntlet an ...almost unlimited control over most of our kind and a direct link to the magic of the Netherworld ... our home."

Penthesilea nodded in reply.

"Whilst it is rather easy to control a few Minions, controlling more of them naturally becomes more taxing due to the constant drain of magic which this requires. However over time your magic and mind will adapt as they become more used to the drain and the attention which it requires. Off course, the changes to your magic will also allow you summon more Minions, in time, my Lady."

Penthesilea nodded again. "I see," she whispered, "and these pillars?"

Gnarl now seemed pleased. "Of course most Overlords were hardly pleased to learn that they would be unable to call forth over a five hundred Minions before their fiftieth birthday."

He sniggered when he noticed the angry expression upon Penthesilea's face, but schooled his own expression quickly and continued. "So naturally they went to work and started looking for solutions and ways around the problem."

"These pillars were one of the most suitable solutions to the problem. They connect with your Gauntlet through the Tower Heart and improve your control over the Minions." Gnarl said as he noticed the pleased expression of his Overlord.

"In other words," Penthesilea summarized. "by spending time collecting those objects I can rapidly gather an army and end up mustering an even bigger force in a couple of years.

"Indeed, my lady." Gnarl said. "However there are some complications which I will explain in a moment. There is something else which takes precedence"

The Minion Master stood up and stretched his back.

"You would like to see this ruin restored to it's former glory and even beyond that." Penthesilea told him as she absentmindedly tapped her nails against the sole remaining armrest of the throne.

Gnarl nodded. "Indeed, Mistress. This ruin is a taint on your title as evil overlord. We need to clear the debris, open up the rooms!" He eyed the throne with a disgusted expression. "Replace that has-been with a proper symbol of your evil dominance!"

Penthesilea eyes went over the amount of debris in the room. "We'll need a crane for that!" Penthesilea told him after sighing.

"Indeed!" Gnarl admitted.

Penthesilea sighed again, whilst she had helped with the repairs from several Minoan ships and fortresses, her input had mostly been limited to fetching and carrying or digging where and when she had been told to do so, therefore constructing such machinery was out of her skill range.

"Unfortunately," Gnarl said grumpily, "I am not the evil entity I once was. I cannot take the feel of lush grass under my feet and birdsong in my ears."

He continued upon a far happier tone. "In fact, I think I need to find a dark corner and something to pummel."

"I shall stay here, the Heart will allow me to speak directly to you, My Lady," Gnarl added. "and see and hear everything you do."

Penthesilea gaze changed for a moment. "Hold that thought for a moment," she thought. "who's the Evil Overlord here? There must be some kind of rule about never ever going ahead of your troops if you are the evil Overlord and letting others do the dangerous and dirty stuff."

Despite that thought Penthesilea knew she wouldn't be staying home in the safety of her fortress though, she needed her daily dose of adrenaline. Still there was a huge difference between being reckless and being stupid, she knew she was the first, but she definitely wasn't the second.

The second part of Gnarl's sentence worried her a bit more and that Minion had better just worded his intention of looking out for her very badly.

"There was something else I needed to know if I wanted to gather an army?" Penthesilea asked Gnarl.

"Indeed, My Lady," Gnarl said whilst turning towards the only open entrance of lower levels.

* * *

"I take it you recall the Spawning Pit?" Gnarl asked her.

Penthesilea nodded in reply, little had changed since the morning apart from one thing. Despite having seen the Tower Heart sinking into the pool earlier, now in the centre of the room surrounded by numerous swirling rocks floated the massive blue orb which was the Tower Heart.

"Curious, is it not?" Gnarl asked her when he noticed her surprised expression, but then he shrugged and told her that he didn't' knew nor cared about the how of it's arrival.

Gnarl raised his arms and turned around towards her, pointing at four caves in the massive room.

"There are four known races of Minions, My Lady." Gnarl said whilst pointing at one corner close to the molehill where a few hours ago, she had summoned her first Minions. "Each with his own hive."

"The Browns are toughest fighters of all the Minions. They're never the ones who will shy away from a confrontation." Gnarl chuckled before he continued. "In fact it's quite difficult to get them to stop! Such is their dedication to battle that Browns can also use many different objects as weapons. As you without a doubt noticed they'll gather quite a few useful objects over the years for this..."

Gnarl gave a short sigh before he continued with a weary and rather disappointed sounding voice. "As well as a lot of useless ones."

Then he pointed at one of the other empty corners.

"The Reds aren't particularly hardy, so in the future you might not be too eager to let enemies get close to them, My Lady. But use them in a horde, and that's a different story." Gnarl grinned evilly before continuing. "A story full of flames and burning and screaming! Ahhh, it will be good to have them back... maybe we'll be getting a hot meal by then!"

Forcing his smile away again, Gnarl continued. "However apart from problems for our currently non-existent kitchens, the lack of Reds also means Giblet has a lot of difficulties in the forge."

Gnarl scratched his ear sheepishly after that sentence and gave another sigh before he continued. Penthesilea was already afraid for the explanation of this one. "The forge which is currently little more than a single anvil because the rest was either destroyed or taken away during the sacking."

"Thirdly," Gnarl continued as he quickly pointed at one of the remaining caves. "we have the Greens, my Lady. Greens can do a great deal of damage if they jump upon an enemy's back. Although their hygiene leaves a lot to be desired, I'm afraid."

Almost as if he was defending them from a wrongful accusation by her, the Minion continued rapidly. "But they are agile and incredibly fast and even better at sneaking up on things. Use them to guard an area, and they're practically invisible."

The effect of his defensive tone was lost when he added, "As long as your enemies don't notice the smell!"

Penthesilea couldn't help but stare wishfully into the cave of the Greens. These Greens sounded…..interesting ...dishonorable...but an interesting addition to her army non the less.

"Furthermore," Gnarl said. "There are the Blue Minions. A Blue Minions' minds appears to be on a different plane of existence half the time. But when the Blues do decide to join us on our side, their healing and magical-damage skills are usually rather useful."

Gnarl smirked at her once more, obviously enjoying what he would say next. "They can even resurrect fallen Minions during battle."

Penthesilea blinked for a moment, obviously in disbelief but she decided that she would find out after she had found their hive.

However," he continued seemingly disappointed, "the Blues are also quite fragile, which makes them far weaker than every other of their brothers.

Gnarl paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"Whilst there are only four known races of Minions," Gnarl continued. "There is a fifth group of Minions."

"As you undoubtedly have noticed by now. The intelligence of most Minions is," Gnarl paused once more before hastily continuing. "Well let's just keep it at, the less said about it, the better."

Gnarl sighed. "Ignorance is truly bliss." He muttered.

"However apart from the withering away of strength and the paling of a Minion's skin, age brings wisdom." Gnarl said. "These Minions refer to themselves as Greys and usually gather a small horde of younger Minions around them."

"You suggest that I gather some of these Greys and use them to rapidly bolster the ranks of my own Minion forces." Penthesilea told him, sporting a small grin.

"I do, my lady." Gnarl told her. "However that day is still far off for now. Without a dark tower and an army of your own, none of them will obey you unless you force them with this." During these last words Gnarl pointed at her gauntlet.

Penthesilea nodded understanding.

"However Greys have much more uses than merely providing your unholy horde with numbers." Gnarl added now almost sounding reproachfully.

Penthesilea smirked. "Do tell." She ordered him pleasantly.

"Greys are much more intelligent than other Minions, which makes issuing orders to them much easier and far more effective than to your other Minions. Whereas most Minions won't be able to understand an order beyond go there, kill or stay upon that spot. Greys are much more subtle and will be able to employ strategies or adapt plans. They are also useful beyond the battlefield since they can maintain and control a force of Minions especially with your blessing, which allows you to garrison or rule places without requiring the need of other less reliable forces then Minions." Gnarl smirked at her after those words. "Like humans."

"Interesting." Penthesilea admitted as she contemplated what Gnarl had told her… and even more importantly what he hadn't. "And definitely something necessary, I thank you for offering your knowledge, Gnarl."

The Minion smiled in answer to her praise, once more exposing her teeth.

"How old and intelligent are most Greys?" Penthesilea asked him. She paused for a moment then she continued. "Let us say in comparison to you?"

Gnarl's smile grew even wider. "A most unfair comparison, My Lady." Gnarl said as he added an evil tone to his voice. The Minion was obviously proud of himself.

"I don't think there is even a single one close to me in either intelligence or age." Gnarl whispered before he added ominously, "I personally took care of that."

Penthesilea barely raised a single eyebrow, somehow she had expected the last part of his reply.

"However, most are quite intelligent or at least as capable of coherent thoughts as a human."

Penthesilea interrupted him with a snort, her own experience had shown her that the intelligence of most humans should not be overstated.

Gnarl continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"This allows them to take care of most administrative duties," these words made Penthesilea sport a near-maniacal smile which could only be described as pure evil, Gnarl couldn't help but feel proud of his latest Overlord. "command a small horde upon the battlefield, rule an extraordinary calm settlement or practice a trade."

"Practice a trade?" Penthesilea asked him, once more sporting a small, mischievous smile. "Like forging?"

"Very good, my Lady." Gnarl complimented her as he failed to hide his obvious surprise. "I hadn't expected you to recognize Giblet so fast."

"I'm a Demigoddess." Penthesilea told him with a seemingly arrogant snort. "We grow up intelligent, powerful and ruthless or we don't grow up at all."

Gnarl chuckled in reply. "I will remember that," he said, "but most stories make only mention of the second and third."

Penthesilea shrugged in reply and turned around again. As entertaining and enlightening the conversation had been, it was obvious Gnarl had finished saying what he wanted and needed to tell her.

* * *

A few minutes later Penthesilea stood once more in the middle of the demi-circle.

Unknown to anyone but herself, the girl sported a small, soft smile which few had ever been allowed the pleasure of seeing. The sea-green colour of her eyes seemed gentle now, seeing nothing to threaten or to anger her. The scent of the grass and nature in her nostrils, the chirping of the birds in her ears, the Demi-goddess was sorely tempted to take a leaf out of the book of the Fauns and seek a soft spot in the grass where she could fall asleep whilst doing nothing. Penthesilea took a deep breath, after the dusty warm air of the Spawn Pit, this felt more like heaven to her than anything else.

"Testing, testing," a sharp loud sound assaulted her ears and the young woman instinctively covered her ears almost shrieking under the assault of the hellish sound. "One...two? …. Is this thing working? It is a bit grubby..."

Furiously, Penthesilea raised her head up to the sky. "You try that again and I'll rip you apart!" She yelled at the invisible Gnarl, whilst massaging her ears. "Shred by bloody shred, understood!"

"Yes, Mistress." A sedated sounding Gnarl replied rapidly, before she heard him spit.

Penthesilea grumbled softly under her breath before she pointed her armoured left hand at the closest pit and called ten brown Minions forth. Moments later she heard the first of ten pleased cries.

"Can you hear me, Mistress?" Gnarl asked again, obviously taking care to keep his voice down. "Ooh... there you are."

After collecting her Minions, Penthesilea turned her head once more around. Once she noticed the sheep at exactly the same spot she stared in surprise at the discovery. It had only been a couple of hours since she had those killed and their corpses taken with them, right?

"Now, My Lady," said Gnarl as if he had successfully read her mind, "the creatures here are rather frisky, so they will have undoubtedly repopulated the area."

"Frisky?" Penthesilea thought in reply. "Unless Zeus has a preference for ewes, I'd say it goes beyond that .… more like Medea has been practicing here with her cauldron."

"Why don't you head for the main-village of Tamalpais?" Gnarl suggested.

Penthesilea shrugged, she doubted she could simply go and conquer it with ten Minions, but some scouting would do little harm. More importantly, she might find something useful, like decent clothes and a bath so she would stop looking like an armed beggar, or smell like one.

She pointed her gauntlet at the sheep and smirked, a moment later Penthesilea's Minions raced down the slopes. Perhaps the sheep had indeed been "victims" of Medea's cauldron and their rebirth had made them wary of dying by Minion's hand … again or perhaps reincarnation was not merely fiction. Either way the sheep realised almost instantly that they had little good to expect from the Minions and ran off, unfortunately for them, Penthesilea had allowed no opening through which they could have escaped and one by one they fell down. Penthesilea smirked once more when she extended her armoured hand and received the Evil Energy from her devoted, little servants.

Pleased she rewarded the first of them, the Minion who had offered her the double bladed war-axe with a short rub over his scalp. The Minion gave a pleased yelp in return whilst softly shaking his head. His otherwise gleaming eyes were closed, obviously due to the joy for his treatment.

The moment Penthesilea's hand touched the bald scalp, a single word seemed to penetrate her mind, Brawler.

For a single second she was confused, then she smirked. "Brawler, that's you isn't it, that's your name."

"Yes, Brawler, that's me. That's my name." The Minion exclaimed enthusiastically with it's typical high-pitched voice. The little thing was even clapping while replying. Another motion of her hand and the Minions grabbed the bodies of the sheep and began dragging those to the Tower Portal.

Penthesilea frowned for a moment. "Was it really useful, to have them drag those carcases to the tower?" She asked herself.

Originally she had expected them to gather the wool, flesh and harvest whatever else which could be used, but according to Gnarl, most Minions had little skill outside of bashing someone's head in. Whatever it was that they could gather might not even be worth the trouble of trying to sell it... and cooking?

Again, Gnarl had implied that Minions at least preferred to cook their meals but what they considered edible and what she did might differ hugely. Penthesilea shook her head in response to those thoughts, it mattered little at the moment, trade and the likes would have to wait for a better time and she would take care of her own meals like she had always done.

With her worries about the future settled for the moment, she turned her head around and began walking towards the path from which she had brought the Tower Heart. There were several pathways left which she had yet to scout. Gathering her Minions she set off, after a short distance, Penthesilea noticed another heavy looking pillar which obstructed the path. Whilst the girl could have easily vaulted over it, her Minions would have much more trouble meaning that it would impede a swift exit or, as she recalled her earlier journey with the Tower Heart, a heavy burden, thus Penthesilea signaled her Minions towards the column.

She heard the cries of her little servants which announced that they were ready and moments later ten pairs of hands grasped a hold of the rough surface and began to push. The pillar moved surprisingly fast despite the skinny, little bodies of the Minions. Once she suspected it had been pushed far enough, Penthesilea allowed her Minions to stop their labour.

After a few more paces, Penthesilea noticed the tree line getting thinner, which revealed the rough stone wall from Tamalpais' remaining main-village. Penthesilea couldn't help but snort when she mentally compared it to the massive walls of Mycenae, the original defenses of her own Tower and finally the strongholds which had protected the legendary palaces on Crete. A poor and rather miserable looking place, she thought, most likely not too difficult to infiltrate upon her own.

* * *

As she approached the village, she ordered her Minion's to hang back. Whilst she hadn't been aware of their existence before they dug her out, it was not impossible that some of the former servants of Kronos and Atlas were aware of the Minions and she wasn't exactly certain that those would welcome an inheritance from the previous Overlord of the Titans snooping around their village. Once she had reached the top of a nearby tree Penthesilea quickly noticed the commotion within the confines of the walls. A lot of people were running around with their arms flailing around, in a couple places they seemed close to fighting and she suspected that they were shouting as well.

Curiously Penthesilea raised her head a bit higher which revealed several rising columns of thick, dark smoke to her.

Once she noticed the position of the closest one to her left, she scowled. "That seems like the spot where I killed those marines!" She muttered to herself

She pointed her gaze at a column of dark smoke which seemed to rise at the direct outskirts of the village.

"Not too far from here." She thought. "If I hurry I'll be there in a minute."

Penthesilea noticed that the exposed path next to the stream led her almost directly underneath the wall which would make an unnoticed approach impossible. None of the people upon the wall seemed armed with a bow or a sling though, which reassured her somewhat.

It seemed like a possible opportunity had come knocking, much sooner then she had anticipated. Still as she gave her ten Minions a quick look-over, she felt a bit of worry, more than ten followers would have been nice. Then she shrugged again, they would have to do.

Dropping down from the trees, Penthesilea landed upon her feet with a catlike agility and quickly pushed her improvised mask up before she rubbed her thumb against the metal bangles from the leather string which closed her coat.

* * *

The people upon the wall gazed attentively at what little they could see from the battle which was half hidden by hills, trees and the high grain in the nearby fields.

It was only when one of the look-outs upon the wall raised a loud cry of alert that their attention shifted. Whilst most of them had missed the origin of the small cloud of dust upon the path after crossroads near the wall the village, each of them had noticed the ink-haired, young woman in the tattered remains of a grey tunic and shoulder-cloak, a red sash and boots who had take a stand upon a small hill next to the path. The lower half of her face was hidden by an improvised mask of dark cloth but two vertical crimson lines adorned her visible features and added to her already threatening appearance. As the dust cloud settled they noticed several small, wicked looked creatures of which each was armed and protected by a mismatch of weaponry, armour and clothing behind her.

The woman slowly raised her axe up as if it were a banner which she used to signal someone. Barely a second after her that she jumped off the hill and began running towards the village with a quick and light pace, whilst the little monsters followed her closely.

"The Olympians are sending reinforcements!" One of the observers upon the wall yelled as he grabbed one of the bows which had been placed there and reached for an arrow from the nearby quivers. However since he was over a hundred feet away from her and greatly inexperienced with the weapon, the arrow struck no other victim except for a single rock which had the blunted brass head of the arrow bounce up harmlessly before the projectile fell still in the grass.

"Hold your missiles, you babyfaced oaf!" She yelled as she momentarily halted her stride to point the head of her axe at the boy, who seemed taken aback by being singled out without anyone ready to support him.

For a moment no one seemed willing to launch another missile and then the chance was gone. The woman and her Minions had gone past them and were now protected from the remaining missiles within the confines of the walls by distance, hills and trees.

* * *

Penthesilea planted her boots upon the top of the nearest hill as she began to observe the battlefield. She noticed what looked like something close to thirty Athenian Marines fighting with perhaps a little over twenty levied "soldiers" from the village. Most of these men were easily set apart due to the simple grey, white and brown tunics which they were wore unlike the blue and white clothes of the Athenians which were generally adorned with horizontal stripes in the opposing colour. Penthesilea also noticed that only one of the Tamalpaisians wore a cuirass of quilted linen whilst almost everyone of the marines wore this kind of cheap armour. Instead the Tamalpaisians relied almost entirely upon their large oval shields for protection with a wide belt not unlike her own and a cap of felt or leather which offered them an extra layer of defense which was quite frankly more hopeful than realistic. She was surprised to notice though that one of the "Athenians" carried a large double headed axe like her own and had a similar belt around his middle which made her suspect that the owl-like symbol upon their armour and the shield strapped to his back was little more than fairly see-through disguise for Minoan deserter or mercenary.

Lastly she noticed where most of the Marines had gathered, it seemed like they were regrouping at the edge of the wheat field almost directly next to the bridge where the defenders were desperately trying to reform their shieldwall. She smirked and took a deep intake of the dry air, those poor fools better had a pair of coins ready because the ferryman was about to extend his open hand for money!

Penthesilea shot almost instantly towards the flank of Marines with her axe in her hands.

The first marine to notice her pointed his spear into her direction, however the weapon was long and rather clumsy. Penthesilea on the other hand was not and she wasted no time to connect the head of her weapon with the shaft of his and pushed it aside before neatly turning the push of her weapon in a stabbing motion which opened the fragile throat of the marine. Then she grabbed the shield rim of his closest neighbour and pulled him towards her before she planted her knee into the staggering male's stomach which made him fall upon his knees. A moment later the marine died when she added her left hand to shaft and struck his lower jaw with a double handed slash of the first axe blade. This splattered her even further with a mixture of his blood and bones. Penthesilea evaded the rather clumsy lunge from the spear from one of the other marines and once again pushed a spear aside before she raised the axe up above her head and then brought it down again upon the helmet of her opponent with a furious growl. Penthiselea was no fool, she knew she lacked believable colours and equipment of Tamalpais, the only way she could prove herself one of them was by killing "Athenians".

The Athenian fell down upon his knees before he dropped forward like a broken automaton. However the remaining marines had shaken this particular corner of their formation somewhat loose and now moved towards her with a small distance between them. This distance was short, but it was just enough to let them evade all but the most reckless swings of her weapon whilst the far longer reach of their spears allowed them to attack her without exposing themselves to her weapon.

"Nice," Penthiselea admitted unwilling to herself. "they actually know how to react upon an assault."

That they did, because whilst the Athenians had suffered due to her unexpected attack. They hadn't lost their battle… or at least not yet. The defenders of the village were still locked in their spot next to bridge due the threat of the far longer weapons of the Athenians. An enterprising leader would have used the moment of Penthesilea's attack to scatter the formation of the Athenians. Without the three layers of spear tips and the weight of their formation the Athenians wouldn't have stood a chance against the large shields and shorter spears of their opponents. But this hadn't happened, instead the spearwall had crawled forward and then had been halted once the exchange between the longer, more numerous Athenian spears and the shorter Tamalpaisian weapons had their tips strike against the wooden shields of the second.

If a bird had been looking down upon the spectacle it would have seen the line which opposed the Tamalpaisian block slowly crawling forward after said block had transformed into a somewhat similar line connected to a group of men which formed something that looked like demi-circle whom half surrounded a single figure.

It was impossible to see, but Penthesilea was smiling underneath her mask. She had attacked the group of marines from their blind spot and abused the opportunity to take some of them out in the moment of confusion, but now the remaining members were aware of her and ready… or so they thought.

Penthesilea took a first step backwards before she slapped another of the speartips away.

The marines who believed they saw their opponent faltering gave a short cheer and followed up on their attacks with an even greater intensity.

"Two more steps…" she thought, "...One more step…" she opened her left fist and released her axe from her metal clad hand. A new speartip shot at her and she deflected it once more, but this time it was a far clumsier move than the earlier fluid motions of the axe. Still, Penthiselea raised her armoured arm up and then in a dramatic fashion she swept it forward. The marines who opposed her blinked momentarily and then realized their mistake as they desperately tried to get back together.

Penthesilea however…. she smiled. She heard the battle cries of her Minions when they literally jumped into the battle.

A few of the Athenians stared in surprise when the wave of shrieking, cheering and growling minions swooped down upon them. This time they were outnumbered and due to the threat of Penthesilea's axe, they were outfought as well. There was no fighting between the minions and Athenians, or at least there was none in accordance to the actual meaning of that word. What happened was simple, Penthesilea and a few minions kept opposing the Athenians, forced them to keep their spears pointed at them and the rest of her ten servants, they streamed around the gleaming speartips and began killing. The Athenians fell quickly, but with little more than one or two at the time. they shattered the knees of the men at the flanks of the Athenian formation, stabbed them in the back or even jumped outright upon their back and forced them down. And once the men were down? The minions clubbed, slashed, stabbed and smashed like outright lunatics.

The Athenians fell one at the time as they desperately tried to retreat back to the protection of the bigger group, hoping, even praying against their better knowing that together they could form up again, that they could establish some kind of battle line which had their backs protected by their comrades and vice versa.

The Athenians fell one at the time, until their numbers had dwindled to the point that their spears could no longer keep Penthesilea and her little bodyguards at bay...then they simply died.

The remaining marines who had noticed the one sided slaughter from the corner of their eyes growled in return.

"Back!" One of the marines who tried to take control of the chaos yelled as he took a step backwards, whilst he kept his spear pointed at the closest enemies.

For a moment the Athenians hesitated but then they followed his example by stepping backwards with their weapons aimed at the enemy.

Penthesilea raised her armoured arm up once again and her minions formed up in a double line across the road which led to the bridge. This left the marines with a bad choice. They could either attack one of the two parties and expose their back to the other, they could cross the road and try to head for the forest from which Penthesilea had appeared or they could head into the grainfields and try cross the hills. Each of the possibilities promised them a plethora of disadvantages and therefore assured them of immediate and one-sided bloodshed.

One of the remaining Tamalpaisians yelled a battle cry and charged forward without paying attention whether his comrades followed him or not. The self- appointed leader of the marines stopped his charge with a quick stab of his spear which pushed the man's shield aside, then the man's neighbour, a dark-haired woman lunged with her own weapon and caught the overconfident militiaman's heart with her weapon. This succeeded in cooling the remaining ardour of the defenders.

Penthesilea's Minions on the other hand were enthusiastically running towards the retreating Marines, but a motion of her hand stopped them in their tracks and made them turn back.

"Stay back." She yelled, an order which was more meant for the defenders than it was necessary for her Minions.

"They're in the field." She heard Gnarl say. "Those owl-worshipping fools! Use your Fireball spell on the wheat, majesty, and roast them like suckling pigs!"

"I know." She thought whilst she pointed her armoured hand at the men who disappeared between the high tendrils of the plants.

The grain was ripe and golden in colour and just as importantly, it had been days since the last time rain had fallen down, which meant the wheat was dry and highly flammable. The moment when the fireball struck the wheat, it turned the golden field into a veritable funeral pyre. The fire erupted with a huge growling sound and was accompanied by thick black smoke, the stench of burning meat and finally the desperate cries of the tortured souls which filled the air almost instantly. Only two poor souls escaped the death-trap, both were heavily burned and even still on fire. Two of defenders dispatched the Athenians with a mercifully swiftness as the two men were rolling over the ground, which ended their suffering instantly.

Penthesilea could hear Gnarl cackle gleefully whilst she, her Minions and the remaining humans were staring at the spectacle. A few of the defenders were laughing like her Minions but most were like her and despite a small flicker of pride due to the success, what she felt most when she stared into the flames was a mixture of shock, relief and a strong urge to vomit.

* * *

Now the battle was over, the levied villagers fixed their attention upon Penthesilea.

"Who are you?" The first of the defenders asked her. He was a young, fairly attractive man who looked maybe a few years older than herself. He had dark eyes and brown hair which had escaped the leather cap upon his head whilst he sported a thick stubble upon his cheeks and chin which seemed to soften his otherwise remarkably sharp looking facial features. It was this last trait which made her suspect he was related to Hermes. The young man seemed to hesitate about what he had to do but eventually he slowly kneeled down and left his shield and spear upon the road before he rose up again and walked slowly towards her. All the while he kept his eyes pointed at Penthesilea.

Penthesilea returned this gaze for a few moments, and her own sea-green eyes drilled into the dark eyes of the boy.

For a moment neither side reacted upon his actions, then the male made a pushing motion towards the remaining defenders behind him in a gesture that could be interpreted as soothing motion as well as a warning. Penthesilea in the meanwhile turned her back towards the boy and seemed to focus upon her Minions. Without saying a single word she ordered them to gather what loot and Evil Energy remained.

"My name is Chris, I believe I asked you who you are?" The man repeated with a calm voice.

Penthesilea didn't answer. However behind the rag which hid the lower half of her features, she smiled.

It was obvious that despite his lack of decent armour or a sign of rank, the dark haired male was the most commanding presence among the current "garrison".

Penthesilea couldn't tell Chris's character for certain. So she waited, angered him a bit by showing some insolence and gave him an opportunity. Hook, line and sinker.

The boy fell for it, just like so many of her earlier opponents and enemies.

Penthesilea waited for the sound of sand crunching underneath the sole of his sandal. A wave of her arm pushed his outstretched arm away from her shoulder and a swipe from her leg made the male stumble which she turned into a fall by giving his arm another pull.

The defenders behind him took a step back and pointed their weapons at her which instantly chased Penthesilea's Minions forward and had them form a circle around the two demi-godlings whilst they pointed their weapons at the more numerous defenders, all the while each of the creatures was grinning sadistically at the thought of more violence.

Despite the numerous speartips which had been pointed at her, Penthesilea ignored the humans. After all, she had already dismissed them as cattle which lacking the initiative to attack her and instead she kept her attention fixed upon the one male who might actually have the strength to urge them into action.

"You...Chris!" She hissed with an obviously anger in her voice as she stabbed the but of her battle axe in the earth and pushed one boot down upon his chest. "Where … is… Alabaster? Are you defending this village for that maniacal butcher?"

Chris blinked for a moment as he found himself squirming underneath the gaze and foot of the furious sounding Demigoddess.

"I don't know." He yelled hastily before continuing. "He left this area over a year ago. Nobody has from him since the last group of his siblings was discovered and attacked by the Alliance!"

"Are you kidding me?" Penthesilea yelled down in return as she pretended to be furious whilst she reached once again for the handle of her axe.

Chris shook his head. "No, nobody knows where he is! For all I know he's dead!"

Penthesilea stared down at Chris for another moment, the man could see the fingers pale as they wrapped themselves around the crimson thongs which had been twisted around the handle of the axe when the woman raised the weapon up with her unarmoured right hand.

Then he felt the pressure upon his chest lessen and he took a deep breath in relief.

"Sweet, sweet oxygen." He whispered once Penthesilea had removed her boot.

"For his sake, he better be gone forever or dead." Penthesilea whispered darkly which made Chris gulp instinctively as he brushed the spot upon his tunic where Penthesilea had planted her boot.

Behind her mask, Penthesilea smirked again.

In truth Penthesilea had already been aware of Alabaster's disappearance due to Gnarl's spying, however she needed some weight to throw around among the Titan-loyalists and a reason for only now turning up.

The first was fairly easy, she had some skills of her own, her Minions and their means and finally the advantages of being Demigoddess, which in her particular case were apart from a fairly limited control over water, the ability to gain healing and rejuvenation from said element as well as a slight advantage qua strength and reflexes in comparison to most humans. As for the second, the man made an ideal scapegoat, whilst Alabaster was to most accounts a brave warrior and often a calculating man, he had also been known as an overgrown manchild who was unable to let go of anything which in combination with his seemingly inability to see another's point of view had ultimately led to him fighting a doomed and partly unnecessary rearguard-action which saw almost everyone of his siblings and a great many demi-mortals who had trusted their life to his leadership killed. Eventually the majority of his surviving followers had rebelled against his rule and surrendered to the Olympians upon the condition of being allowed to leave for Africa where they would join the according to Gnarl equally hopeless struggle against the Carthagian encroachment. Despite Alabaster's urgings his former followers had refused to renew the fight and he had ended up running from both the victors as well as his former comrades. In other words the man was exactly the type that would anger much more dangerously people than himself and then would be forced to run from the consequences which he had failed to foresee due to his stubborn obsession with his own goal.

"Why do you need him?" Chris asked carefully.

For a moment Penthesilea stifled which made the other demigod take a step backwards, then Penthesilea shrugged.

"Atlas had sent me to Sicily in an attempt to gain access to the Forge underneath the Etna before Kronos and that bastard arrived." Penthesilea said almost dismissively.

"I had no reason to return here after Kronos croaked and Atlas left to take control of Othrys, especially since I had some good things going there." She continued sounding angrily. "That witching filth ruined everything I had there."

During the last part of the sentence, Penthesilea poured a hint of regret into her voice.

"You're here for revenge?" Chris asked her with a hint of fear, disapproval and curiosity in his voice.

"I am damn sure not here to trade my own lord for a master who will get me killed to sate his own bruised ego!" Penthesilea spat angrily as stomped towards him. "Do you know what it is like to work until your fingers bleed whilst you and those dearest you are still going hungry, to risk your life only to be spat upon, to know you're being cheated and still being forced to smile and to pretend being grateful for everything they do not take from you whilst pretending to be honored by what they do grab!"

Penthesilea took another deep breath, but she didn't feel calmed by it, rather the anger inside of her seemed further fueled by the new intake of oxygen. Her story, that… was not a lie because for the ease of sticking to it, her story stuck uncomfortably close to the truth, to her actual past.

"I've lost to much, endured too much!" She whispered angrily as she thought back to a time before she had left Minoa for the war against Kronos at the orders of its royalty. "I had something good and they'll pay for that."

That was a simple truth, she had worked and suffered and hadn't cared for it, in exchange for that single promise, a mere bread crumb in comparison to what she abandoned, she had given her sweat, tears and blood. She had supported the power of King Minos, defended the walls of his palace and aided his champions, the Gods and their chosen ones. And despite the fact that there was hardly a single battlefield around Minoa that did not know her blood, her promise had been given no more thought than a broken plate before it was cast aside.

She had allowed Minos and Passsipae to bask it in the light and to be praised for their kindness and warmth for so long, whilst she remained the scapegoat for their darkness.

And once they believed her death, every single letter of their earlier words had been scratched out.

But they were wrong, the grave they had abandoned her in hadn't been deep enough to keep her trapped in the bowels of the earth and for the first time in her life, she was free, unleashed and the unaware world was about to discover what would happen when someone who had roamed the Labyrinth became free to act at her own discretion.

Throughout all these years all she had gained was a small number of people whom she had cherished above everything and whom she had abandoned for their own sake when she knew they would have wanted her to stay and an equally small number of people who might have become actual friends if she would have let them or if the time had been granted to her, that was all she had gained during those years… and even that seemed to have been taken away from her.

* * *

Chris stared at the woman whose outburst had taken him aback.

The man took a step backwards.

In front of her, the female warrior snorted when she noticed the reaction of the guards behind her.

"Are you with Alabaster?" Penthesilea asked him with a much calmer voice.

Kin shook her head.

"With Athens? Minoa? Colchis?" Penthesilea asked her again, each time resulting in the same reaction of Chris.

Penthesilea turned towards the other guards. "Any of you is?"

Each of them shook his head rapidly, prompting a dry chuckle from the demigoddess.

"Then I guess I have no reason to kill you." She said. A small smile appeared upon her lips, although none of them noticed anything from it except for a slight motion of her eyes and facial muscles due to the cloth before her mouth.

"Neither have my little cherubs, here." She continued whilst she began rubbing the bald skull of one of the closest Minions affectionately.

As if to counter the word "cherub", the Minion grinned wickedly at the defenders which exposed each of his sharp teeth.

"What are those..." Chris paused for a moment, "Satyrs?" She asked.

Penthesilea simply grinned in return. "The Minions of my Lord." She replied.

"What are you going to do?" Penthesilea asked Chris in return.

The dark haired male paused for a moment. "We'll be going back to the village." She said. "If we stay here we'll simply going to be cut to pieces."

Chris took a deep breath. "You said you had a lord?" He asked her.

"You'll meet him soon enough," Penthesilea told him with a small smirk. "He has access to an entire army of these little psychos ...You can call him the Overlord ...But until then I'll be the one whom you'll be talking to….you can call me Penthesilea."

* * *

Neither of the two Demigodlings was aware of the madness which was boiling behind the wooden walls. Men and women were running around in a complete and utter panic. Whatever reassurance Penthiselea's earlier intervention had given them, it had dissipated completely the instant she had left the remaining marines to burn. However whilst the majority of the people kept uselessly running around, some of the braver, more decisive and as it would turn out to be simply the more stupid, motor-mouthed members had take action and positioned themselves upon the wall. A few of them carried a spear, javelin, bow or sling, more of them however had simply grabbed some of the heavy stones which had been piled up next to behind palisade.

Due to the panic which dominated their thoughts none of them had even considered opening the gate to their own men. Maybe it was an understandable decision considering the ease with which the Minions had ripped the Athenian formation to shreds, however it would be a cold comfort to the Chris and his defenders who would remember that it was them who had been left outside to the obviously fairly limited mercy of the Minions and then woman who headed them.

"Run you fools!" One of the civilians with a javelin in his hand yelled as the first defenders crossed the bridge. "There is an Amazon and her monsters behind you! Get Ready!"

"Hang on!" Another villager with an older, slightly calmer voice called out. "That's no Amazon, you blind fool, look at her rack."

"Could be just an Amazon with an actual pair, I mean they wouldn't really burn one of those away wouldn't they?" The first male argued back.

"Or she might have pushed some fruit or vegetables underneath her tunic!" Another "_genius_" replied as he added his metaphorical piece of copper to the discussion.

Underneath the walls, beyond the protection which was provided by the mixture of wood, earth, stone and ropes, Chris found himself alternating between glaring at the loudspoken idiots who actually did enjoy the protection of said defences, throwing his eyes up the heavens whilst silently praying for the earlier mentioned idiots to shut up (or for a thunderbolt to smite said lackbrains) and finally eyeing the woman whom they were discussing with an apologetic expression.

Penthesilea was glowering in return and he could see the eager grin of the Minions as they began testing the sharpness of the short blades which they had obtained from their earlier victims.

"Doesn't matter, I still bet that's it. I don't trust those horse lovers."

"Maybe you're right!" Agreed one of the javelin-waving idiots. " Here prove that you ain't an Amazon hell bent upon enslaving and mutilating us and free our people… all our people whom are trapped behind the confines of the mining village within the mountains!"

"Yeah...And if you are!" Added one of the "braver" males as he pointed his bow at her, "Stay where you are so I can get my aim straight!"

Chris hesitated momentarily then he abandoned his shield and reached the javelin-filled quiver which one of his men had carried with him.

"Uhm…"He began as he approached Penthesilea. "The village they're locked into is down there...next to the mine," he said as he pointed at a spot beyond the hills….I could lead you there if you'd like to."

He sighed. "Most of the people here have been ...isolated within the confines of their own towns for a long time...this made them less than tolerant to what was new even before the wars with the Olympians broke out… and they've lost a lot."

Underneath his breath he added. "Like the ability to acquire twenty-three pairs of chromosomes for some of them."

Penthesilea whom had caught those words chuckled in return.

"Lead on and tell me is everyone in there that much of a tool?"

Chris shook his head. "Fortunately no, but most of the younger and more intelligent people were either caught by the Athenians in the aftermath of the fall of the Stronghold or were working in the mines which left mostly the close-minded, aging people whom rarely left the protection of the palisade around their isolated village.

Penthesilea nodded in return. "I've known places like that. Suffocating towns whose people hate everything which comes from outside of their own valley or mountains. A trap of which the occupants rarely leave and with a lot of fear and grudges but with little happiness and even less children...and if there are those than those are often weak and short-lived."

Chris nodded. "They're loyal to Atlas and Kronos...but loyalty might be the only true virtue they possess."

He sighed. "I wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for the Athenians and my oath to Kronos." He confessed. "That and ...because Alabaster's no surrender- or negotiating-policy left me stranded here during the war."

Penthiselea gave a short nod whilst she reached distractedly for the mask which still obscured her features.

"What should I expect from the Athenians?" She asked him.

Chris gave a snort in return. "Not too much currently, I'd say." He admitted. "The worst of the fighting here stopped a year ago...after Alabaster left the area. The only time when they come near is to acquire more serfs or to extract a tribute from the people who still try to live outside the walls or from the mines in the hills… like just happened."

The young man paused momentarily. "Or maybe you should expect a bit more." He added uncertainty. "They've been trying to acquire full control of the mines for quite some time and with the number of people they've obtained they ought to be capable of manning them. I doubt the remaining free miners would have been capable of stopping them if they're determined to take them."

"You think Athenians would be more interested in taking the mine than this village?' She asked him as she filled this particular little tidbit of information away.

Chris nodded again.

* * *

As they made their way through the hills towards the mines Penthesilea felt a new pull which made her veer from the path which Chris had them follow.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked her.

"Not really," She replied as she felt her glove lead her towards a small open spot which was overshadowed by a number of dying trees which seemed somehow forced to bow towards the centre of the open spot.

"The Gauntlet is drawing you towards an arcane presence, my lady!" Gnarled explained as his disembodied voice suddenly seemed to come out of thin air as she entered the area. "It would be wise to find out what is drawing you in, Mistress. Kronos was a powerful warrior and a brilliant ruler but he should have been equally renowned for his preparations and his magical prowess. He will undoubtedly have hidden numerous tools and objects which could have served him well and each of them will be undoubtedly be of even more use to you, my Lady."

Penthesilea gave a nod which had Chris staring at her with some curiosity.

He noticed with some surprise that Pethesilea halted her stride and then seemed to point her armoured left hand at some of the nearby rocks.

The young woman took a deep breath and made a slow, pulling motion which seemed to be accompanied by a minor earthquake as he saw the earth tremble and break open around the rocks and something began to make its way towards the surface.

What rose up looked a lot like an altar but it wasn't one akin to the ones which the two demigods had ever seen before. This altar was round and had been elevated by a three-leveled dais. Each of these platforms was a little smaller than the previous one and had been adorned with several rings of inscriptions and symbols from a script that looked ancient and primitive and which they were unable to read. In a stark contrast with it's dais, the altar itself was entirely bare of adornments and scars upon the almost impossibly smooth stone. Despite the care which had gone into the creation of this altar it seemed far from impressive though, instead it appeared as little more than a fairly low pillar with a bowl-shaped gap at the center This had obviously been designed to let the blood pool up in there and even reach up to the top of the hollow if enough victims were present until the blood would overflow and pass through a small canal in the rock from where it would gain access to a small number of channels from where it would pour into a number of the carved symbols. The most eye-catching and impressive element however wasn't the actual altar itself. This was the statue which had been added to it. This sculpture was easily as big as a grown man and covered almost half of the top-area from the pillar as well as the rear-area of two of the three daises. The shape however was both unsettling and for some reason greatly familiar despite that fact that Penthesilea had never ever witnessed anything like it before. It was the helmeted head of warrior, but not from a mere man. This was a skeleton-like creature whose features were partly covered by a three horned helmet with numerous sharp edges.

Like the pit in the center of the altar Penthesilea could see the numerous bloodstains upon the rock and she knew instinctively that only a few of those blots had ever been from a sacrificed animal.

"This is an Arcane Blood Pit, My Lady." Gnarl explained to her. "I haven't seen one of those in years. You can sacrifice Minions or human victims in there to heal your wounds and restore your vigour as well as your magic... Have no fear, your Minions will gladly die for you"

Then he added with a much softer whisper, "...They're very loyal…" before he giggled evilly.

"Of course it might be a better policy to force your humans to sacrifice their own lives to your glory...after all those victims might not be as loyal and it will remind the others of what might happen if they refuse you."

Penthesilea gave a nod but ignored the unspoken suggestion in his voice. Instead she bended down to study the signs upon the stone steps.

Chris stared at the pile with a disgusted expression. "That is an evil thing." He said. "People have died there and it was neither honorable nor quick."

Penthesilea nodded. "It is all that and more." She agreed. "but it is part of the inheritance which was left to the current Overlord."

"If that's the case I don't know whether I want to meet your Overlord." Chris told her.

Penthesilea heard Gnarl's giggle in her ears in return and she shook her head.

"Then you better hope, you won't have too." She told him. "If you're lucky you'll just have to meet me rather than him."

"I really don't want to meet this Overlord, don't I?"

Penthesilea shook her head in return. "No you don't." She admitted. "Trust me, you really don't want to meet him. I am far more reasonable than the Overlord will be."

Chris gave a nod despite remembering her behaviour during their introduction.

"Are you going to do something with this?" He asked her whilst he instinctively tightened his grip upon his javelins."

Penthesilea shook her head. "No ...nothing, or at least not at the moment." she said as she rose up from the, to her, indecipherable, stairs.

"We should leave," she continued. "the longer we take the more likely the Athenians become to find out about my presence and what happened to that raider-party."

Chris nodded.

* * *

"Well, ain't this grand?" Penthesilea muttered sarcastically as she took a long look upon the road towards the mine.

Whilst said road originally had been little more than a wide dust trail between somewhat overgrown looking fields and numerous fairly low hills, the continued road looked far more challenging. The earlier sloping hills had been replaced by what could only be described as a natural wall of stone. The road itself continued onwards but now it ran through the bottom of a thin ravine and it required absolutely no effort to imagine a scenario which involved a small number of Athenians burying whoever it was that dared to traverse the opening between the cliffs underneath an avalanche of missiles and rocks.

"How in the name of Tartaros did they ever get to the mine?" Penthesilea wondered.

Chris gave her an understanding nod. "With a far greater ingenuity than I would have given them credit for." He told her.

"King Theseus had sent one of his finest strategists once his allies began to pull out." He started his explanation. "And Annabeth instantly proved herself as good as her reputation implied."

Even with her mask, Chris was still capable of recognizing a dead-pan stare when he saw one thus he continued his story.

"What happened is mostly a matter of hearsay but supposedly she took a number of archers and peltasts with her from Athens to which she added the majority of the Minoan marksmen and some of the remaining constructs of Daedalos. Then she employed those to clear the top of the cliffs and had her peltasts climb them whilst her archers and slingers forced them to keep away from the edge and once enough peltasts reached the top, the defenders had a choice between retreating or dying."

Chris sounded rather impressed and it wasn't exactly difficult to see why. Completing the task which he had outlined sounded far easier than it would have been, furthermore Penthesilea could only wonder how many times the woman would have been forced to have her men repeat said task or how many times she might have needed to turn around because the local defenders had positioned a new group of levies at a strongpoint behind her rear. Penthesilea had been a warrior and a champion at best, not a general or even an officer, however even she could easily imagine the nerve wracking, tiresome, inglorious and seemingly never-ending experience that such an assault would have been.

Penthesilea sighed again. She knew her Minions would be capable of scaling the cliff walls rapidly, however they would be defenseless whilst they did so and what was even worse, she would not be capable of doing so as well which meant that either she had to have them construct something to pull her up (and after considering her Minions general lackluster skill in everything that did not involve killing, breaking or battering and their even greater disinterest in everything that wasn't part of the 3 earlier mentioned occupations, she preferred not rely upon anything unless she had Gnarl double check their plans first …. and then she would have Gnarl "volunteer" to test said constructs second).

The second possibility was not that much better. This meant sending her minions up the wall and have them simply kill everything up there. This was something which sounded far better than it was doable since she had already realized that her Minions' stupidity allowed others to slaughter them fairly easily unless someone else was doing the thinking for them.

"I see you are wondering about what to do, Mistress." Gnarl interrupted her musings with a somewhat disapproving tone in his voice. "It is quite unusual to have an Overlord think rather than have her throw her Minions at the challenges."

"I am not wasting my time and the element of surprise with an assault which is bound to fail...Gnarl." Penthesilea corrected him with a severe voice.

Gnarl paused momentarily, then she heard the ancient being chuckle.

"A cunning one. It is nice to see one of those again. I guess it shows your relation to Kronos...He was also one who caused his enemies demise with cruel and cunning plans unlike his father and his cousin Atlas who simply tried to clamber to success over the bodies of his enemies and his own forces alike…. aah remembering the old days always makes me nostalgic." Gnarl interrupted his own musings again with another chuckle.

"There is a Possession Gate to the right, my lady. Maybe this will help you to get access to the mountains…." He chuckled again. "Or if not… at the very least it should prove to be entertaining."

"Gnarl…" Penthesilea hissed back at him.

"Yes, my lady...is something wrong with my suggestion?"

"Entertaining?" She hissed again.

"This...hadn't shut down...again...right." Gnarl muttered annoyed as he acknowledged his mistake.

Penthesilea pinched the bridge of her nose. "Gnarl, is there another Minion with you?"

"Eeerh...yes, there are." He admitted suspiciously. "Quaver is waxing his obnoxious poems and your jester is either coming up with new sobriquets for you or merely plotting in the background."

Penthesilea gave a nod. "Good ...Quaver...come closer….Gnarl ... stay!"

"Yes, Mistress." another high-pitched, but curiously accented voice acknowledged her command.

"Hit him!" Penthiselea ordered him.

"What?!" Two voice replied before one of them (Gnarl obviously) cried out in pain.

"No...no...nooooo ...give me back my staff, you useless ...no...aauw ...no…."

Penthesilea sniggered in return. "Enough, Quaver."

"Yes, Mistress." Said Minion acknowledged her order with some obvious regret in his voice before adding a very pleased "Thank you."

"Yes...thank you, my Lady." Gnarl muttered obviously far less pleased.

"Lead me to this ...Possession Gate." Penthesilea ordered him…"and Quaver…..keep close to Gnarl, will you?"

"Yes, Mistress." He replied with a particularly pleased sounding voice.

* * *

The Possession Gate was another curious monument which Penthesilea excavated in the same fashion as the earlier Arcane Blood Pit.

"What is that?" Chris asked with a confused expression as he looked at the four-pronged stone constructed that seemed to have been created by collecting numerous, dark, smooth rocks which were of the size of a grown man's head and then pushing those rocks together in the shape of an extended clawed hand. However it was impossible to tell what kept those rocks glued together.

"A trophy." Penthesilea lied smoothly. "An earlier Overlord crafted this monument during the reign of Ouranus to celebrate a slaughter of his enemies.

Chris nodded without so much as a hint of disbelief.

Penthesilea gave a dismissive shrug. "I guess it will make a good rallying point for this attack."

Chris gave her a nod although the young man looked obviously taken aback at the thought of them assaulting an unknown number of Minoan Marksmen and other opponents.

"How will you do that?" He asked her. "They're bound to shoot anyone down who tries to climb up those walls and they'll crush anyone stupid enough to enter the ravine between the cliffs.

Penthisela gave him a reassuring smile which was mostly lost on him due to her mask.

"By letting them shoot at where we aren't and hitting them from where we shouldn't be. " Penthesilea told him.

Chris gave her a nod. "Yes," he agreed, "that might work. if you know a way to make that happen!"

"That's what I need you for." She admitted.

Chris sighed in return. "I am going to get dodging arrows due to this ain't I."

"It's a better option than not dodging them." Penthesilea agreed as she inserted a hint of humour in her voice.

Chris sighed. "The things I do for friends." The man muttered as he grabbed a better hold of his javelins. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to distract them." She told him whilst she rather doubted the possibility that he considered her part of those friends. "to capture their attention."

Penthesilea turned her head momentarily into the direction of the village. "Those archers will most likely start to suspect something went wrong. I need you to act on that, make it seem as if you're scouting out the periphery for a direct attack ...then make it seem as if that attack is underway to fix their eyes upon the place we aren't…"

"...Whilst your Minions clamber up the wall and attack them from where they shouldn't be." Chris added with a small grin.

The young man gave a brief nod and thought for a few moments. "I could create a small dust cloud." He suggested. "but not for long so I will need your minions to act fast.

Penthesilea gave him a quick nod. "Good," she said. "See it done... and I am certain you'll get some of your friends back in no time."

Penthesilea waited for one extra minute after Chris had left the visible area of the monument before she ordered her Minions to work.

Said creatures stormed immediately forward with their customary zeal and formed a large circle around the monument except for a single Minion. Instead of joining his brethren the creature ran past them to the the stone figure and jumped against it before he climbed the last remaining feet to the top and planted his feet there and began to wave his sword through the air as if he was the winner of some kind of competition. Around him, the other Minions acted instantly, as if that was the signal they were waiting for, and began the ritual. Each of the creatures followed the creature in front of him and waved his weapons up and down like a drunk man attempting a parody of a jog whilst his head kept bobbing up and down in such a fashion that merely looking at them was enough to make Penthesilea feel queasy. As this took place the Minion on the top of the monument stopped his own waving and became silent, his grin disappeared and then seemingly torn between fear and acceptance he raised his arms in a surrendering gesture.

"Now, my lady!" Gnarl called out. "Use your possession-spell upon the monument!"

Penthesilea obeyed his command and pushed the open palm from her metal-gloved hand towards the monument. In answer to her gesture she felt something leave through her flesh, it wasn't hot like her earlier flames and there was no heat. Instead, it felt malleable and lukewarm, but it looked like a veritable wave of liquid ice and it came accompanied by crackling lightning. Neither the wave nor the lightning ever reached the monument nor the Minion on top of it . A similar wave left the monument instead and met the first wave halfway the circle. Then Penthiselea felt something submit and as it did, the Minion floated upwards as every muscle in his body began to bend, his eyelids closed down and when they opened again. They no longer contained an orange iris, both the iris and the white of his eyes had been hidden by a sheen from the same liquid ice and lighting. The minion floated upwards as he spread his arms and arched his neck whilst Penthesilea screamed as she felt something simultaneously pull and push her towards the center.

Before her she saw the talons of the monument bent and stretched as if the monument was confused about his own goal.

Suddenly she felt a push against her back, she instinctively leaned forward to mitigate the sudden shift in her balance and then her feet lost their hold upon the ground as well.

But as she fell backwards, she didn't feel herself hitting the earth. Instead, she realized she too was floating and she opened her mouth to scream...

* * *

**Note, quite a bit of the chapters as well as the intelligence of some unnamed characters is directly deprived of the game Overlord (I & II)...(I think we all know to who I refered ) yes, they were that stupid! and in combination with how they looked, I am having a suspicion certain unnamed characters were quite inbred as well.**

**Mind leaving a review?**


	3. and rightfully feared?

**Here it is, as announced earlier the third and most likely last chapter of this fic.**

**The cover image is the appropriately named character Penthesilea (as in the queen of the Amazons who fought the Greeks at Troy). She is also a playable character in the game "Warriors Legends of Troy" which is related to the Dynasty Warriors-series of games. **

**As always my thanks go out to my Beta Lord Protector Corvo Attano**

**I make no claim upon either the intellectual property of Rick Riordan, the imperium of Paradox Interactive nor upon the KOEI-empire. I do appreciate some of the products they've created over the years though and I advise everyone to read/ play those products. (****Obvious attempt to keep the bloodhounds/ lawyers from suing my ass)**

* * *

Penthesilea blinked as she suddenly felt her perspective upon the world shift. The next moment she saw the ground chasing towards as she found herself falling.

She extended her limbs and bent them the moment she reached the ground and as such broke her fall.

She felt wrong and blinked as she saw her Minions run towards her.

"Mistress?!" The first one asked/ told her.

She nodded slowly as she looked him straight in the eye ... and blinked again as she realized what was wrong. The young woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she raised her hands up and stared at them.

A pair four-fingered, long nailed claws reached out to her in return.

She took another deep breath and turned her head around. Behind her as it was floating in front of the monument was her body. It hung still in the air with her arms outstretched and her legs together as if she had been crucified in mid-air.

"Gnarl," she whispered with a soft voice as she came to terms with this particular ... abomination.

Said Minion's voice came almost instantly in reply. "I see you've succeeded in channeling your spirit into one of your Minion's, my lady." He said. "This ought to allow you to accompany your Minions if you need to order them to a place you yourself can't go."

Penthesilea initially had planned to give him a chance to explain why he hadn't warned her about the effects. However Gnarl kept talking and that broke the neck of what little that had remained from her patience and understanding.

"I do suggest you take care as you vault these mountains, Mistress. Your legs are far shorter than you were accustomed too and you carry some hitherto unknown parts which are very sensitive."

"Quaver," She announced with a disturbingly calm voice which instantly told Gnarl that he had made one joke to many. "Go nuts!"

Gnarl instantly screamed out in agony as the other Minion gleefully began his chastisement.

"I do believe I said go nuts, rather than go for the nuts…" Penthesilea clarified with a hint of humor in her voice, "I do like I don't have to spell everything out."

She took a deep breath and pointed a single talon at one of her Minions.

"Brawler," she called out to the Minion. "You will protect me with your life.

"The rest of you, around us! We are going to take that cliff." She called out at them as she set off and instinctively clenched her fist around the hilt of her sword . "And let those bastards on top of the cliffs pray that Hades will treat them kindness and pity ...because...I...will ...not!"

The ten Minions raced towards the cliffs and climbed against the steep rock-wall almost without slowing down. There was no arrow which flew down to intercept them. Instead the ten creatures shot upwards and instantly disappeared behind some of the larger rocks or behind the large piles of stones which had been gathered next to the edge to keep assailants at bay. Even Penthesilea who was actually a demigoddess and fairly unpracticed in climbing made a to her unbelievable time despite being the last to arrive and hide behind some of those rocks.

The Minoan archers who had been positioned upon the cliffs stood nearby them, however the top of the cliffs was a broken landscape that was rife with elevations, rocks and pits which made it impossible for either of the two sides to see the other despite the small distance between.

Instead the archers had focused their attention upon the small cloud of dust which was approaching down the trail.

Penthesilea could actual hear one of them, by the sound of her voice a woman who might have been a little bit younger than herself, remark with a familiar accent that she had been right, that the man who had approached the breach between the cliffs had been a scout rather than a hunter.

The Overlord took a deep breath and grasped the sword in her hand a little bit tighter, then she sneaked slowly and carefully towards one of the small hills at the top of the cliffs and raised her head above the edge.

She noticed something like eight archers at this side of the breach between the cliffs, another five stood at the other side of the ravine and finally there was a small stilted platform a hundred meters to their right which made her suspect that it was at that particular spot where the breach gave access the hills.

The archers were poorly equipped, no better than the usual band of herdsmen who had traded their meager existence as shepherd or cattle driver for a more dangerous but (if they were lucky) far more lucrative occupation as mercenaries. A few of these wore a cheap, bullet shaped helmet from bronze, but the majority wore a simple straw hat with a broad, rather floppy brim which protected them from nothing except for the sun. None of them carried a shield or armor, instead they wore rough wool garments with a pale colour like most peasants. She noticed a few swords and knives among them, however not everyone carried even one of these. These were archers above everything else, men and women who would either perish or flee if they were caught by actual warriors.

It was tempting to simply charge at them, but she didn't. Penthesilea had too often been forced to rely upon nobody but herself and those who learn to rely upon nobody but themselves likewise learn to calculate, to strike to break their enemies resistance and to feel few regrets about the hurt they inflict. Pride was important to anyone, honour, on the other hand is only of importance if you want to impress others.

As Penthesilea had rarely felt the need to impress others, she felt no more than a slight annoyance at the sight of the two other groups of archers before she disappeared once again behind the rim of the elevation.

After that the Overlord and her Minions quickly made their way towards the tower next to the breach.

There she counted another four archers with another one at the top of the platform and this time she smirked.

She waited as she raised her hand and used her control over the Minions to drag each of the creatures in place. she smirked and raised the sword in her hand.

"Minions...attack!" She ordered her creatures as she charged forward. Nine high pitched voices screeched as they closed in upon the surprised archers. There would be no battle for them because whether they reached for one of the arrows in their quiver or tried to make a break for it...even if they succeeded in evading the Minion who came from the front...none of them could escape the second assailant who stabbed them in the back. The only moment of resistance came from the sole surviving archer up in the tower and he couldn't hope to hold to hold the creatures off upon his own.

Ten war cries however did reach the remaining archers...as well as Penthesilea's sole ally before the cliffs.

Thus the archers who had guarded the cliffs were just in time to witness the inanimate body of their last remaining comrade flying down the tower where he was left in a broken heap.

Said men instantly charged forwards to take the Minions down with their arrows before at a second force could become the hammer which would crush them against the anvil of Penthesilea's Minions. They might have acted calmer if they had been aware of the absence of this second force.

They did not though so Penthesilea positioned Brawler once again in front of her and prepared to attack the smallest of the two groups. In other circumstances she might have preferred to assault the larger group first as this was the one which more likely to inflict more casualties upon her numbers, however she didn't. She knew the smaller group was far more likely to run once they realized they stood no chance against her Minions whilst the larger group would be more inclined to try to hold them off due to the confidence which came from their greater numbers.

Penthesilea moved once again with her own forces as she sent them down the broken terrain which kept the archers from taken an accurate aim at them, however this time the archers were ready and launched their arrows at the Minions, simply opting for blanketing the general area of the Minions if an accurate shot was beyond their possibilities and this time the arrows found their marks in Minion flesh.

Penthesilea saw several of her Minions go down but somehow she sensed they weren't down for the count and she realized exactly why it was that Gnarl had described the Browns as the toughest members of the Minion-race.

A new plan formed in her mind and she gave a new order which made certain that her Minions remained down for the moment as she and the remaining Minions reached the first archers. She evaded a clumsy strike with a rock as she jumped at the first of the archers and gave her second order as she stabbed her blade first in his stomach and then finished him off with a stab to his throat. The man screamed in pain as she gave her second order to the fallen Minions. When those five men died, it was not the bloodiest day she had ever seen, the assault upon Tamalpais held that honour. But the number of men and women she had killed today made it a memorable one nonetheless. And the day was still far from over.

The Demigoddess turned Minion gave the opposing eight archers at the other side of the crevice a cold grin as those tried to fell her and her creatures. Then she turned around again and ran towards the broken hills which would give her some cover. She was almost instantly joined by the remainder of her Minions who she gathered in a small wedge around her and began to run across the hills towards her former countrymen. Said countrymen kept their attention pointed at her though and made every effort to waste no arrow to take her and the Minions which surrounded her down. By now, the archers had grown more or less accustomed to the height and speed of their targets, as well as the frantic pattern with which they moved and thus with no more protection than what was provided by the landscape, their arrows drew blood. Brawler was the first of her small group which got hit when one of their heavy arrows struck his shoulder and made him miss his step which exposed Penthesilea to the arrows of the other archers. Penthesilea gained her first wound of that day and what might otherwise have been the worst and last wound of her lifetime when she felt as if she had been slugged in the stomach at the moment a barbed arrow tore through her belly. But this time it was she herself who discovered exactly how hardy the Minions were. Despite the breath which had been knocked out of her and the arrow in her body she kept running, in fact she was barely slowing down.

However Penthesilea was no fool and neither were the archers who had remained upon their earlier position. She and the Minions were almost halfway the horseshoe which was the path on top of the left and the right cliff, however there was still the area of the guard tower which had to be bridged and this was by far the flattest, most open area of this part of the mountains..

Penthesilea made a first attempt to cross that killing field, but before she was even half way the area she called those Minions around her back and gave some more orders, then she repeated this process a second and even a third time. At this point almost everyone from her little band had been shot at least once and she suspected that after all this the archers had started wondering whether she was simply banking on them running out of arrows before she ordered the actual attack.

If they did, they were wrong and she smirked once she felt all her pieces were in their place. The disguised Demigoddess raised her sword up above her head before she screamed a war cry. This time there would be no quick retreat to cover after exposing herself and her closest followers, no attempt to gain time or to gain an advantage and the archers somehow realized this as well. There was no frantic scrambling or excited screaming, instead each of the eight marksmen calmly pushed an arrow against the upper limb of their bow and pulled the string back in a fluent motion.

Penthesilea saw so as well, she saw them take aim at her and her Minions and smiled as she gave her final order to the rest of her Minions.

A high pitched war cry erupted from the side and the first of the startled archers released his arrow which then buried itself harmlessly into the ground. Said marksman screamed in pain as a sharp, scythe-like blade tore through his thigh and opened his artery. A second Minion jumped directly at another archer and bowled him over whilst the third broke the bow of a third marksman before he swept his blade through the belly of a fourth archer. The remaining Minoans desperately stepped backwards and reached for what little they had to face the Minions in a melee. A single dagger, a fishing-knife and their bows or arrows, that was all they had.

They had one consolation, although it was a poor one. Each of the Minions, including their own assailants had suffered due to the archers. But if it had been worth it? To the archers who died by the hand of the Minions it most definitely wasn't.

* * *

As time passed and the noise died down Chris kept staring at the edge of the cliffs and the opening between the walls for a sign of Penthesilea or her Minions.

"What has happened?" Chris asked himself as he slowly raised his head above the fallen tree which had provided him with cover from Minoan eyes and arrows.

"It is far to quiet there." He muttered to himself whilst he grabbed one of his javelins a bit tighter and took another risk by sneaking a bit closer.

The young man kept his eyes locked upon the cliffs as he crept closer.

"May the fates have mercy upon me." He whispered as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he prepared to run.

Then a cold, powerful hand with sharp talons closed around his shoulder.

Chris instantly swerved and prepared himself to stab the tip of his javelin into his assailants face.

However the gleaming blades of heavy axe rose up and intercepted the weapon.

"Nervous much?" Penthesilea asked him with an amused tone of voice before she calmly made her way towards the gap between the cliffs.

Chris followed her a bit more carefully but he followed her nonetheless.

"The Minoans?" He asked her curiously.

"Death!" Penthesilea told him with a calm definitive voice that should have left absolutely no doubt about their fate.

"All of them?"

Penthesilea chuckled darkly as she entered the opening before she turned around to face him whilst she spread her arms out in an extravagant fashion.

A number of obviously death, Minoan bodies rained down from the cliffs.

"All eighteen of them." Penthesilea confirmed.

Chris blinked, nodded and then bended downwards and reached for one of the nearby bodies.

"Leave them!" Penthesilea ordered him.

"The least we can do is keep the animals from devouring them." Chris told her.

Penthesilea chuckled behind her mask. "Of course not, the least we can do is nothing."

Chris glared back at her which made Penthesilea roll her eyes, although in reality she was far more amused than she was angry.

"We should leave them like this...because this way they're useful for us." She explained instead.

"Useful?" Chris asked her with obvious bewilderment.

"Useful." Penthesilea repeated, "if some Athenians arrive they're bound to suspect something if there is nobody upon the cliffs to greet them. They'll go searching for the bodies, deserters or whatever ... if we hide them and suspicious men… are generally careful men. They would be moving in silence and sticking close to cover with some guards in hiding.

Penthesilea snorted momentarily. "Especially since "cover"would be the place we would have to hide the bodies."

"True," Chris agreed grudgingly.

"However if leave them here in the open, right behind the walls which hide them only from those who remain outside." Penthesilea continued. "They won't have a lot of time to get suspicious but once they'll see these three groups of highly capable, but very dead archers who held a brilliant position ...they'll…"

"Panic!" Chris agreed with a sigh.

Penthesilea nodded. "And panicking men are very different from suspicious men. They're loud and unthinking. They'll be letting us know they're there before they're ready to fight us."

Penthesilea chuckled again.

Chris on the other hand shuddered. "I guess I now know why Alabaster called for you. You would have scared most of his warriors into staying loyal to him if you joined him and you would have seen the Athenians and everyone with them running away as far as their legs could carry them."

Penthesilea chuckled once again. It was a fake laugh, but she couldn't help but wonder how much of those words were true.

Most likely most of those words were...after all, she was the woman who had told three of her loyal creatures to play dead after being struck down by an arrow and then led the rest in an attack to distract the rest of their enemies so that her wounded Minions would gain the opportunity to disappear behind cover and then she had exposed her own Minions and even herself to more arrows to distract those remaining archers so that her first, already wounded Minions would get the chance to flank her enemies.

She sniggered. It was a dry sound. It was telling that Gnarl had ended up complimenting her and she was quite certain that until a few years ago she would have considered Gnarl's approval as exactly the opposite of almost everything she ought to want to achieve.

But...times change and she could appreciate Gnarl's intelligence even if she refused to trust him beyond the distance she could throw an elephant riding Titan in heavy armor.

That….she suspected was another decision she suspected Gnarl would approve of. Life was full of irony and it was obviously not bereft of a dark sense of humor as well.

* * *

As time passed, Penthesilea and Chris continued to penetrate deeper into the hills. They moved fairly slowly, as Penthesilea made great efforts to sweep her Minions from cover to cover. This was generally fairly easy since there were plenty of obstacles which could obstruct the eyes of a possible guard or scout, however as they marched on Penthesilea began to suspect that overconfidence had gained the upper hand over the Athenians since she found few clues which indicated the presence of such threats and even less actual resistance .

Penthesilea had only just started to hope that the Cretan archers were the only threat when they found a first indication to the contrary.

"I can't say have seen such a thing before." Chris admitted before he kneeled in front of the broken body.

"I have." Penthesilea told him as she kneeled next to him and reached for one of the shields which had been laying there.

She recognized the snake and bull- symbols which adored the hide from several of the shields.

"Minoans," She muttered as she pushed the shield back away.

"Not all of them." Chris corrected her as he pointed at a few of the remaining shields and broken pikes. "Some of them were Athenians….these were most likely a part of a force which was finishing the conquest of the hills."

"That's all mighty ...interesting but did you find something valuable as well? Did you check his purse?" Gnarl interjected.

"What did this?" Chris asked her with some actual fear in his voice as he stared back at her. "There were at least thirty of them, possibly up to forty men and yet there are no traces of a proper battle, just a one-sided slaughter."

" I am not certain…." Penthesilea admitted as she rose back up. "But something was alone...very big...very powerful ...and most likely ancient."

How do you know the last thing?" Chris asked her curiously but without a challenge in his voice.

In reply Penthesilea pointed the head of her axe at the nearest hillside.

"You see those shrubs at the edge of the top?" She asked him. "You notice the broken branches among them?"

Chris nodded in return and she could almost see the cogs in his head start to turn as came to same conclusions which she did. "Something large lay there in a hiding...waited for them to pass it by and then jumped them, landing among them before it proceeded to crush and …."

"a very good conclusion...my young mistress." Gnarl interjected once again. "But the really important questions you haven't answered yet are slightly different...Did it kill them for food or for another reason….and is it likely to do the same to you and your Minions?"

"Most of them are still here!" Penthesilea replied with cold voice.

"Just must of them." She repeated as she eyed a body of which the right-arm had been torn off.

"aaaaahm." Gnarl added, easily catching the meaning of that grim remark.

"How long do you think it has been since these poor bastards were slaughtered?" Penthesilea asked nobody in particular.

It was Chris who replied to her. "A couple of hours?" He guessed. "There are plenty of traces from crows who have eaten their fill these guys… and the same I guess for a couple of foxes… but I see no real sign of rot even with this heat."

Penthesilea nodded. "The mine is close...no?" She asked him.

Chris gave her a pained smile. "Yes…" he agreed. "I fear so."

"I am…" Penthesilea told him as she stared rather uselessly to her right hand "...hoping for the best?"

"Thanks." Chris muttered although he was far more worried than annoyed.

Then he took a deep breath and pointed his eyes at Penthesilea. "We should make haste." He continued.

* * *

"I disagree with the human, Mistress." Gnarl told Penthesilea. "You ought to make your way out of the hills this instant ... fighting humans is one thing ... taking on a monster capable of slaughtering an entire warband is another."

"I know!" Penthesilea agreed with aggressive voice. "But would it be any safer in the area around the hills with that thing roaming free?" She asked Gnarl.

She shook her head. "I'd prefer to find out as much as possible now, when the beast is slow and sluggish due to his full belly rather then find myself the only prey without knowing what's chasing me?"

"I see." Gnarl replied. "However something makes me wonder whether you're not simply trying to play the hero?"

Penthesilea snorted in return. "The last time I tried to be a hero, I was twelve and I have been wondering ever since whether it wouldn't have better to have been selfish...it would have been easier, made me far happier ...and as it turned out it might have been far less pointless!"

"That is good to hear, my lady."

Penthesilea rolled her eyes but didn't reply. Instead she made her way to Chris.

"You think you're ready for what you might find behind the ridge of this hill?" She asked him.

Chris gave her a cold nod in return as he clenched his fist around his javelins and kept his eyes fixed upon said horizon.

A loud roar echoed from the hills and Chris broke into a run.

Penthesilea acted instantly and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"What?!" He asked roared at her.

"Don't go charging in blind, you oaf!" Penthesilea yelled back.

"My friends and siblings in there are dying!" He growled at her.

"Your friends and siblings might already be dead and if I remove this hand you'll just be racing off towards a similar end!" Penthesilea bit back at the man.

A female sounding cry reached their ears and was after no more than a second cut off which made Chris push the hand from his shoulder and raced off.

"You goddamn fool!" Penthesilea growled as she set off after him with her Minions behind her.

Then she actually remembered her Minions and gave her orders. The next moment a first Minion jumped upon the man's back and closed his arms around Chris' throat. The young man staggered and the pause was enough for the other Minions to catch up with him and force him against the ground.

A second female sounding screech tore through air and Chris desperately tried to push himself up as he attempted to shake himself free from the small creatures which were hanging from his back.

"I know you're trying to save your friends and siblings!" Penthesilea told him with a harsh voice as she grasped Chris by a forelock and forced him to look up at her. "I've haven't lost that much yet that I fail to recall what it is like to care for people. But charging in like a fool will get you nothing except for a spot upon the dinner table!"

Chris glared back at her.

Penthesilea cocked her head which was the signal for the first of the Minions to move away from him, although each of them kept his eyes upon the man.

"Then what do you expect me to do?!" Chris yelled back.

"To use the grey thing within the confines of the hair covered thing you occasionally use to wear a hat!" Penthesilea snarled back.

She took a deep breath and grasped the man's wrist. "Do you wanne save as many of them as you can?" Penthesilea asked him whilst she pulled him back up. "Or do you have a secret life-long ambition to become dessert?"

Penthesilea glared at him with an angry expression, almost as if she was daring him to give her the wrong answer. "Pick your poison carefully because the wrong answer will have me running from the hills in a heartbeat."

"Save them." Chris muttered with an angry expression.

"Good," Penthesilea told him whilst she grabbed one of the man's javelins and pushed the projectile into Chris's hand. "Than you're following _my _orders...again!"

Chris nodded somewhat resentful but showed no sign of further resistance when Penthesilea set off towards the mine.

* * *

Mine was a very good word to describe the place. For it was quite obvious that the owners of the place had absolutely no intention of sharing the area with anyone else. If Chris and Gnarl hadn't made her aware of the reason for the presence of humans, Penthesilea would have suspected that this had been the last refuge of one of the Titans rather than a mining village from mere humans. It was once again a far more impressive defense than the far more shoddy construct which had been erected around the main village. Instead of wood and small stone blocks, Penthesilea noticed massive boulders in a great variety of shapes which had been roughly fitted together until they formed a wall which was roughly twice the height of a grown man. She noticed no towers but the wall included several small hills which made several small areas of the wall tower another two or three feet above the lowest areas of the wall. it was an ancient, even outdated kind of construction but it had generally worked throughout the age of individual heroes and small bands of braves.

However, she doubted that the people within these hills had been forced to weather more than the occasional threat of such a lone wanderer or a roving war band and most likely not even that much due to the protection granted by the hills and cliffs.

A protection which became even more impressive once she glanced at the mountainside which loomed over the mine and its surroundings. Three from the four sides of the village before the mine had been locked of by that mountain and she recognized the remains of some wooden towers above the cliffs which indicated that the villagers had not been willing to take any chance with their security. She couldn't help but feel some appreciation for these villagers.

"Gnarl," Penthesilea asked the Minion. "What was mined here?"

"Silver, my Lady." Gnarl told her with a voice which gave an indication of the Minion's own interest in the contents of that Mine and Penthesilea couldn't blame him for this.

I suggest you let the human go first, Mistress." Gnarl suggested. "That way you have a distraction if you require a swift retreat."

Penthesilea had severe doubts about the head start which Chris' involuntary sacrifice might give them, but she still gave a nod. Until she had a proper assurance of Gnarl's loyalty, she deemed it better to indulge him...unless he forgot who was supposed to be in charge.

She ignored the gates which formed an opening between the two parts of the walls. Instead she made her way to a part of the wall that seemed to be placed in front of a number of particularly large buildings which she suspected to have been granaries or warehouses.

The young woman threw a long look at the top of the wall and when after another few moments there came no sign of danger, she made a pointing motion at the walkway and ordered one of her Minions forward.

"Check for enemies from behind the parapet, do not move beyond it!" She commanded.

The most nearby of her Minions prepared to charge forwards but Penthesilea stopped him with a motion from her hand.

"Not you Brawler, you're my bodyguard! You can't defend me from there!" She told the creature after which she removed her hand once again.

Another Minion charged forward instead.

The creature crawled up against the stones rapidly before instantly stopping and clinging to the wall like an abnormally tall fly before he carefully peered over the parapet.

Then he started to wave one arm back and forth which made Gnarl giggle and comment upon said Minion's "enthusiasm" whilst Penthesilea fought a mental battle with herself to resist the urge to charge forward and slam her own forehead against the wall.

She resisted said impulse and instead followed after Chris with her Minions.

Once they had climbed the wall, Penthesilea motioned everyone to keep their head low.

She didn't hear another outcry of pain but the town wasn't quiet either.

"There is a lot of motion behind the house." Chris muttered he took a deep sniff. "Sheep." He muttered curiously once he recognized the typical odor of sheep.

"The only source of food they might acquire here in large numbers without the help of the farms from Tamalpais." Penthesilea muttered.

She frowned. "Do you think they were preparing for a siege or so?"

Chris shook his head. "I don't know."

Penthesilea gave him a long stare as she retained her cold expression. "If you were the one who was slaughtering the remaining villagers...Where would you do it? Is there some kind of square in a hamlet like this?"

Chris threw her a judgmental stare due to her words but took a deep breath instead of mouthing off and nodded.

"There is no genuine townsquare...but there is a small open area in front of the mine where they load and unload the oxen and wagons." he admitted.

Then he paused as he felt the ground shake as something exceptionally large moved away from the warehouse.

"Do you think it is leaving?" Chris asked surprised.

Penthesilea scrunched her brow in return. "Not unless we very lucky…. and if I was that lucky I would have offered to play a game of dice to gain access to your town."

Chris chuckled nervously in return whilst Penthesilea crawled towards a part of the wall which would allow her to see past the corner of the building.

"Tartaros…"She yelled. "Get away…He has heard us!"

"He...what…" Chris asked before one of Penthesilea's Minions pushed him aside.

The next moment the twelve were caught in a rain of wood splinters and debris as the majority of the rear-wall of the warehouse was destroyed by the impact of a massive, brass covered club.

Chris blinked momentarily. "Thank you." He muttered instinctively to the Minion, unaware that the creature had simply obeyed his mistress unspoken impulse.

Then he stared at the owner of said club.

The huge face of said creature was mostly hidden behind a thick, unkempt looking black beard and an equally disgusting looking curtain of black braids which had been dappled with white due to the very human-looking skulls which had been weaved through his hair.

The species of said creature was instantly confirmed due to the presence of a single, sea-green eye above his nose.

"A cyclops." Penthesilea muttered as she pointed a glare at Chris as if he could have helped it.

"Really, I hadn't noticed." Chris muttered sarcastically in return. "Anything else I wasn't aware of?"

Penthesilea gave him a lopsided grin. "This ought to mean there are still some villagers alive."

"What makes you think so?" Chris replied as he mentally compared his javelins to the size of the creature.

"If it had killed everyone...why would it still be trying to lure people out by calling them for help?" Penthesilea asked him. "Do you think he would expect their enemies to come to their rescue?"

Chris nodded sheepishly as he stared at the Cyclops who was raising his club for a wide swipe.

"And what will we do now?" He asked her. "Jump really high?"

"No…" Penthesilea replied as she turned her back to the Cyclops"Far too deep to be wise."

"What?" Chris asked before he followed after the woman and her 10 Minions.

Penthesilea groaned softly after she struck the ground but crawled back up.

"Fan out, my little psychos!" Penthesilea ordered as she made a wide swipe with her arm.

Chris gave her a small nod as he looked up at the creature which was by now easily twice the height and most likely at least five times the weight of most adult males.

A new swipe from the club torn a large number of stones away from the wall which collapsed into a crude ramp and allowed the gigantic humanoid an easy access to the wall from which it was towering even higher above them.

The monster raised his arms up to the heavens as he roared loudly from atop the wall …. then he jumped.

A large dust cloud rose up from the ground when the creature's weight struck the ground and Penthesilea's creatures scattered before it.

Fortunately for them, the creatures were just as swift as durable and Penthesilea mental orders were even faster.

The creatures moved in and out of the range of the monster's club. Most of them fled almost as soon as the creature laid his single eye upon them, but that particular moment allowed some of the others to move a bit closer simultaneously until...after so many attempts one of the Minions gained a chance to drag his weapon through the flesh of the cyclops.

It wasn't a deep wound...the numerous layers of thick wool and animal skins which he had wrapped around his legs had obviously done the duty he had intended for them...still her creatures had drawn blood and he hadn't.

A moment later one of Chris's javelins struck his chest and hung there for a couple of moments before he slapped it violently away, simultaneously turning the shaft of the weapon into little more than matchsticks.

"The second blood." Penthesilea muttered from her spot, away from the direct confrontation.

Then she chuckled. "I guess his chest is not as likely to be struck as his legs." She muttered as the annoyed creature pointed his eye at Chris.

She raised her armored left hand and pointed that at the monster's spine.

"Burn…." She ordered as she felt the palm of her hand heating up.

"As if…" A small fire floated before her open palm.

"You're already…." As she felt a strain upon her lungs and her arm started shaking due to her efforts.

"In Tartarus!" The burning orb shot straight at the gigantic creature as if it had been fired from a ballista.

Penthesilea gave a loud sigh of relief as if the fireball had actually been a physical weight which had been forced down upon her whilst she staggered backwards due to the backlash.

The Cyclops on the other hand staggered visibly and even found itself forced to bend down before he could recover his balance. Then the numerous flammable materials in his clothing lit up and turned him into a massive torch. The monster was too distracted by the flames to care for the Minions who instantly charged him and began to cut away at his legs whilst he reached for his burning tunic and tore it from his chest.

"Keep attacking!" Penthesilea mentally ordered her creatures as she regained her breath. "slash the tendons from his ankles until he can't stand up anymore."

Then she pointed her eyes back at Chris.

"Get out of here." She mouthed furiously. "You wanted to save your friends and siblings, ...no? Then get them!"

Chris blinked in return. "What?" He asked her, wondering whether his hearing had gone before his sanity left him...unlike what he always had expected.

"Get them!" Penthesilea repeated whilst she grasped her axe with both her hands. "Whilst you people still have the chance to escape."

Chris still seemed to hesitate as he found himself torn between abandoning the only one who had been willing to come with him to save some of his friends and siblings...and actually rescuing his friends and siblings."

"What about you?" He yelled back at her.

Penthesilea growled in return.

"I'll hold him off until there is enough of a distance between you and him. Then I'll rejoin the Overlord and once that's the case...this thickskin will stand no chance.

Chris closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, then he nodded.

"I'll remember this." Chris yelled at her before he ran towards the gate. "... don't be a hero...run!"

Penthesilea chuckled softly. "I know you will...otherwise I would not be doing something this stupid." She muttered.

"Now, my Lady." Gnarl interjected her thoughts. "Get away, whilst the beast is distracted. If you're quick he will get after the fool rather than you."

Penthesilea chuckled evilly. "Why would I run as if I am afraid… for what? Death?" She asked Gnarl. "When I could become their living hero."

It was at that moment that Cyclops finally found himself free from the burning cloth and skin which covered his upper body. The creature's chest had been hairy and most of these had been singed or even burned away which created a stench of its own which mixed itself with the original odour of sheep, sweat, a remainder of rotting flesh and finally unwashed cloth.

The combination was a rare stench to which Pentheslea and her Minions were subjected and as ridiculous as it might have seemed to everyone who was forced to face off against one of those monstrous creatures, Penthesilea was already half inclined to simply kill the monster here for no other reason than to make certain that she would never again be forced to smell it.

Still having Brawler in front of her grasp his own throat and imitate choking whilst he yelled "Stinks like a Green." was somewhat funny… and worrying because Pentheslilea had absolutely no desire to being forced to get accustomed to such a scent.

However she lacked the time to consider that thought for more than a second because despite the hair that had been burned away by the fire, the cyclop's skin had grown red but had otherwise remained unmarred by the fire.

"Almost like a child op Poseidon…" Penthesilea muttered distracted as straightened her back.

The creature swept his club around in a wide arc and as he did so, the heavy tool broke through the earth with so much force that clods of dirt flew in every direction and left a deep furrow in the land.

Penthesilea's Minions once again retreated from the monster at the young woman's mental orders but this time they broke the ring around the Cyclops. Instead they reformed into a demi-circle which stood between her and them.

The monster followed them and as such he moved away from the wall.

She took a deep breath and pointed her armored hand once again at him.

The cyclops stared back at her with a hate filled gaze as he recognized the motion and then charged straight at her as he threw a is club around in wide motions to keep most of her Minions away.

Penthesilea smiled and evaded him with a quick dive which had her scramble up with an almost catlike grace which had her back up in an instant.

The Cyclops gave a pained roar as one of the Minions had used the moment to drag a thin but deep, red line across the back of the monster's empty hand with his stolen sword.

The monster stared back at the cause of this wound and Penthesilea found her earlier smile evaporating. She needed to keep him focused upon her rather than his surroundings.

She reached towards the cloth which had obscured her features earlier and pulled it down in a quick motion. This motion drew the beast's attention for a moment and she capitalized upon the opportunity by charging him in return. Her axe flew through the air in an almost vertical arc which contained enough force to split even a cyclop's head and the tall monster took an instant step backwards before he made a swipe with his club to shatter the shaft of her weapon. Penthesilea however had already pulled the axe back and the monster's weapon flew harmless over the ground before the haft of the weapon was once again clenched into her fists.

She smirked.

"No distractions." She told him chidingly before she raised her axe once again in a wide swipe which the monster evaded by stepping backwards.

Penthesilea noticed a small column of now very little looking humans behind the back of the beast who were running in their desperate attempt to gain enough distance upon the massive Maneater.

The Cyclops reacted with a quick stab of his club which most likely contained enough force to break all of her bones. Penthesilea countered with a lunge of her own axe which slowed his attack down and drew a small scar upon the already heavily scratched wood, before she changed the direction of her axe and slashed the weapon downwards and which ran a far deeper rift through his right leg.

The club missed her once again and Penthesilea took another quick step backwards which left her just outside of the danger zone.

"Like I said…"Penthesilea told him mockingly. "No distractions … I am rather fond of being the center of attention you see."

The Cyclops growled and sprung into action. Already too familiar with the inhuman strength of the Cyclops-race, the Minoan-born Demigoddess refused to meet monster's strength with her own and instead evaded the swipe by diving aside before she pushed her weapon forwards like a spear and then pulled it backwards with an even greater speed which tore another gash through the cloth around the massive creature's ankle. She followed that act by giving the Minions towards her right-side their first new mental order since her own intervention.

The cyclops raised his club to crush her when he noticed the smaller threats closing in and stepped backwards before he made a swipe towards them which drove them back again.

Penthesilea stood up and evaded the swipe of the weapon which reached just beyond her earlier position.

"Almost," she muttered distractedly before she moved her Minions to the right side to their positions.

She waited until the Minions started moving until the woman sent a trio of the Minions at the Cyclops' back towards the top of the wall.

From a corner of her eyes she saw the last of the column disappeared from her sight and she smirked in return.

Then she gave yell.

"Back." Penthesilea screamed as she raised her axe and charged the beast in a direct contrast to her orders before she threw herself to the side and flung herself underneath a wide swipe of the club.

The Cyclops gave a loud roar in return and raised his club up to smash her with a vertical strike of his weapon when the remaining Minions to Penthesilea's left shot forwards with a swords in their eager hands. The cyclops took another swipe at them with his empty hand but failed to hit them when they broke their attack off. The attack hadn't been limited to them though, the Minions to the right had likewise taken action and charged forward as well. Unlike the other Minions they never halted their assault and instead they threw themselves straight at the leg of beast which received numerous deep jabs which were barely slowed down by the thick cloth around the limb.

His earlier attempt to crush Penthesilea was forgotten instead he swept the knuckles from his dominant hand down his leg which dislodged the far smaller creatures from his limb and launched them away. Said Minions flew a short distance through the air and then struck the ground after which they kept rolling. They stayed down for a single moment then they had scampered back up again, looking somewhat wobbly upon their legs and dirtied, but otherwise no worse for wear.

If Gnarl's earlier description of the Browns as the toughest of the Minions had somehow been disregarded by Penthesilea after their earlier meeting with the archers than it was this sight which definitely confirmed it.

Penthesilea took another breath before she took a first step backwards, towards the wall and the launched Minions. Then a second step followed...so did a third and a fourth.

The four minions who had stayed with her likewise kept up with her and crawled backwards although they only retreated with bared teeth.

For a moment the Cyclops seemed to hesitate. Whilst the creature was obviously far from intelligent or civilized...it was smart enough to realize that this battle hadn't been one of the one-sided confrontation from which he had gathered most of his prior combat-experience and that it was unlikely to become easier. Thus he hesitated..and Penthesilea stopped instantly.

The seven Minions gathered around her like before and then she took a step forward with her axe in her hand and a challenging smirk upon her face.

This provocation tore through the Cyclops' confusion and he took a few slow step forwards whilst he swung his club with slow deliberate attacks which were more meant to keep his smaller opponents at bay than to crush them.

Penthesilea reacted by continuing her earlier retreat but despite the occasional lunge of her own weapon to force the beast to keep his attention upon herself, her true focus was fixed at her Minions which now resumed their earlier demi-circle and started to half-surround the monster.

A quick charge from the two left-Minions halted the retreat and had the Cyclops pause as he raised his club before the creatures broke their assault back off again... And the retreat towards the wall continued.

"What are you doing?!" Gnarl snarled out of nowhere into Penthesilea's ear before he swiftly added "Mistress."

"Seizing my opportunity!" She snarled back as she threw a quick glance behind her and noticed she was mere feet away from the wall.

Two of the Minions on her right made another push forward towards the Cyclops who once again raised his club for a swipe and Penthesilea turned around and began running accompanied by the other five Minions which she had kept by her side.

The Cyclops blinked in surprise and then swung his weapon towards the two Minions to drive them away as he set off after the Demigoddess.

Penthesilea felt the earth behind her shake underneath the monster's massive weight and knew she was rapidly losing the distance between them. But for every step which the Cyclops took Penthesilea had to take five so there was no way for her to keep her head start.

As she felt the Monster closing in Penthesilea threw herself sideways and as she rose up after half-falling/ half-landing she swept her axe with a wide single-handed slash in the general direction of the monsters in a wide horizontal arc.

She could feel the sucking effect from the air which was displaced by the Cyclops' club as it swung over her. But unlike her opponent, whilst Penthesilea's slash had been blind it hadn't missed.

It was caught in the numerous folds of cloth and hide, robbed of most of it's impact, but she hadn't missed… nor had it been her only attack.

High-pitched war-cries erupted from behind the monster as the trio of Minions jumped from the walls and grabbed a hold of the Cyclops' back.

Sharp talons dug into the creatures' back or grabbed a hold of the thick hair which fell down whilst clawed feet scratched small red lines in the monster's skin. Once their hold had been established the Minions stabbed their short swords into every inch of vulnerable flesh which they could reach.

One massive hand successfully reached behind him and grasped a Minion's leg who was then thrown with a brutal strength towards Penthesilea but the other two evaded the monster's grip and kept going at it with all the possible fear they felt and all the violence which was inherent to their already aggressive nature.

However more swords had reached the Cyclops and their owners began their cruel work with a glee and a desperation which was equal to the ones belonging upon the monster's back.

The cyclops sunk upon one knee when Penthesilea approached him as she changed her grip upon her axe. His club dropped from his rapidly weakening hand as Penthesilea noticed the sword which sprouted from the side of his neck and creature fell upon his hands.

For a single moment, Penthesilea hesitated over her next action. It wasn't pity nor was it guilt or a similar, "noble" emotion. If anything it was greedy, cruel and extreme practicality.

Gnarl had told her about the Evil Presence-spell and the possibilities which it created. A cyclops would be a powerful addition to any army, especially a monster which was as old as this one. However, a single look into the creature's eye persuaded her of doing otherwise. She could read the naked hatred in his eyes and she knew that even as much a single moment of clarity would make her the target of his next attack. Penthesilea was many things, but she was not incapable of imagining her plans failing, her control evaporating and her own strength fading. She wasn't going to hold the chain of a monster which was bound to strike at her when she would be at her weakest.

So instead, she swung the axe and struck, which broke the Cyclops skull and ended his life...for now.

* * *

"Very impressive, my lady." Gnarl told his mistress as he looked down upon the images which appeared at the surface of the pool. "But what was the point of fighting ...a Cyclops!...if you're not enslaving it?"

From the corner of his eye he noticed a grinning Quaver scurrying towards him and the ancient Minion grasped his cane a bit lower before he raised it up in a threatening gesture in return.

Back down at the surface of the pool, Penthesilea raised her armored glove up in a strangling motion and he felt Quaver's clawing hands answer the order with what he suspected was great glee.

"Watch your tongue, Minion!" Penthesilea growled back at him as her image glared at the ancient Minion from the surface of the pool. "Before it gets you in trouble from which it can't extract you."

Gnarl felt Quaver's grip upon his throat momentarily slacken and he noticed that Penthesilea had lowered her hand again whilst Quaver hadn't. The Grey Minion gave the other Minion a contemptuous glare and smacked his hand away.

"That ...is very true my Lady." He admitted with a voice which went from annoyed to something that seemed like contrite.

"However you can't deny that your decision to engage a Cyclops was a dangerous one and came with little advantage if it did not deliver us his service or even as much as some treasure." Gnarl defended himself.

"Perhaps." Penthesilea agreed before she shook her head. "But I believe I gained something far more valuable than mere riches or a powerful but unreliable servant."

"And what is that, mistress?" He asked her curiously but with a hint of apprehension. you

"Reputation, Gnarl, goodwill...and the influence which those two bring." Penthesilea told him.

Her image turned it's back to Gnarl as she began to make her way to the entrance of the town.

"Chris will remember this, so will the people who saw me distract that beast when they ran off" Penthesilea told him. "...and whoever is in charge of that town will know that there stood someone foolish enough to face off against a Cyclops before his gate and he will believe the Overlord she's serving is actually powerful enough to kill that monster. if she comes whilst wearing pieces of his tusks as a necklace"

For a single moment Gnarl blinked as he saw the pieces of Penthesilea's plan fall together and then caught a glimpse of the picture she was creating.

"You're not just planning to rule them as their Overlord...you'll also be pretending to become their defender to keep them from organizing against you." Gnarl exclaimed with a mixture of bafflement and outright glee. The ancient Minion threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"You make this old Minion feel all nostalgic," He said as he rubbed his hands together. "You truly are Kronos Grand-daughter. I can only imagine the pride he must be feeling for your actions."

* * *

Penthesilea stared at the crane which had been placed outside of the mine. She noticed several empty minecarts in its direct vicinity. Most of these were severely damaged and had been spread all over the terrain close to the entrance, as if someone had thrown them around in a fit of anger. Penthesilea suspected that this was exactly what had happened once the Cyclops had realised exactly how many people had escaped his hunger.

Still she gave a tired sigh. "Please tell me, Gnarl, that you have an easy way to get that in the tower!"

Gnarl sighed in return. "I am afraid not, my lady." He admitted.

Penthesilea sighed again. "Then there won't be a better option than break it down and build it back up in the tower?" She muttered as she began wondering how many times she would have to start rebuilding the piece of machinery once she finally got all those parts there.

"I guess we'll better start looking for some lighter wagons to load all those parts upon." She whispered with some disgust. "At least that shouldn't be that difficult if they're that dependent upon supplies for their survival."

Penthesilea preferred not to think about the alternative which would require her to make at least one more trip for the rest of the parts. She also prefered not to get caught stealing one of their cranes by people she was trying to impress.

Penthesilea was right about the wagons though and without a trace of enemies in the vicinity she allowed her Minions to spread out and continue to loot the place. This got them few rewards since this had been little more than mining village rather than a military camp, still it did get her creatures some of the knicknacks which they liked to wear as well as a few splashes of paint with which they soon employed to further "adorn" their armor with scrawled pictures and splashes of color. A more worrying if not entirely unexpected discovering about her creatures was the way they threw themselves upon the jars with wine. Fortunately for her, the Minion's toughness was not limited to physical wounds and they stumbled onward alongside of her.

She was far more pleased to discover some pieces of cloth and actual clothing in the remnants of the houses as well as number of hygiene-products. These were promptly confiscated by the Demigoddess.

However it was Brawler who led her to the greatest discovery that day.

"Power, Mistress." The Minion exclaimed with his customary enthusiasm as he pointed into the direction of the cliffs.

Penthesilea narrowed her eyes momentarily and called her Minions back around her as she made her way into the direction which he had pointed out.

She was almost next to the cliffs when she felt her gauntlet heat up and pull her further.

Something instinctively told her that there was more than one something in a hall which had been carved out behind the cliffs. One of these "Powers" was an object, the other was alive.

She glared at the cliffs who stood between her and this newly acquired goal. Her magic was still new, still uncontrollable and as much a mystery to her as to most new observers, but she knew she could steer it, lead it on towards whatever it was she intended. and she felt it follow a course through the earth in a way that was not dissimilar from a river making its way through the land.

There was a tunnel underneath the earth!

Penthesilea growled as clenched her fists and slowly raised them up. The Minions who surrounded her looked around in awe as they noticed the way the earth started to move, it was not merely tearing apart as it shook, instead it was moving in the same rhythmical waving pattern as an actual river. Gnarl had called her the granddaughter of Kronos, he wasn't wrong but she was no less the daughter of the Earth-Shaker.

"Once again…"Gnarl told her, "Very impressive, Mistress. You should enter, tread proudly and show no fear!"

Penthesilea chuckled in return, still feeling the high which usually remained after employing her original powers.

"Shouldn't you warn me to act carefully and not taking needless risks?" She asked him as she recalled his reaction upon her confrontation with the Cyclops.

She could actually hear the amusement in his voice as he replied. "I doubt there is a need for that in this case, Mistress, I daresay you will be in no danger unless you show fear and weakness."

Penthesilea gave him a nod.

"Torches!" She ordered with a calm voice which prompted her followers to craft these from a couple of nearby pieces of rubble, branches and torn cloth.

She entered the tunnel at the head of this small column followed by nine minions whom each carried a torch in addition to their own weapon. The tenth, Brawler walked almost next to her but he clutched his own weapon in both his hands as his yellow eyes scanned the surface of the tunnel with all the devotion she could hope for.

The collapsed tunnel was small where she entered it, no wider than the distance which a single man would have needed to walk without being overly worried about touching the walls with his shoulders.

However after a short distance, the damage of her minor earthquake disappeared rapidly and the tunnel became far more impressive looking. The tunnel was shaped like an almost perfect demi- circle which was almost high enough to have a Cyclops walk through the tunnel. Which would have been disturbing enough as a thought without the presence of an actual Cyclops on the outside of the tunnel and a pair of "powers" within its confines. Maybe Gnarl's earlier words should have reassured her… they didn't though.

As she continued her trek, she saw an obvious glittering in the distance before.

"Mistress...Stop!" Brawler yelled as he grabbed her leg with one hand and gave it a hard pull which threw her backwards.

Penthesilea swore loudly as she found her backside painfully introduced to the cold, hard and slightly moist floor. Then she saw the reason for Brawler's action and she swore again, this time softer.

"Well done, Brawler." Penthesilea said as she rubbed her gloved hand affectionately over his head. "Thank you."

She stared down and gulped, except for the rubble which had been caused by her collapse, the floor had been almost perfectly flat and utterly bereft of hindrance...that was up to the point where the floor literally disappeared.

Penthesilea pointed her now narrowed eyes back at the distant glittering, a trap... and in hindsight a fairly obvious one.

She swept her eyes down the floor as she looked for a clue to proceed and noticed a small pad to her right which was directly connected to a spiral stairway which led to a higher floor, most likely the one with the bright light which had almost successfully lured her into the chasm.

The young Overlord sighed and looked down at Brawler who gave her an eager smile which made her sigh before she gave him a single nod.

The Minion set off instantly before halting five steps in front of her. She saw Brawler turn her head and give her an asking look as if he was asking her whether she would follow him. She gave him another nod and did so.

* * *

As she made her way to the top of the stairs, Penthesilea kept looking around and she couldn't help but wonder whether this was what an ant saw whilst climbing the ruins of a temple in the darkest of nights. It seemed like a fairly good comparison though because that was exactly what it looked like. There were broken six broken and crumbling pillars, one of these was the staircase she currently threaded, as well as an even more broken looking floor which was threaded by numerous ravines and holes. That was the floor obviously which was covered by the remains of statues, walls and the roof of the temple. There was even a star-spangled night sky. The sky itself existed out of the mountain which seemed to have partially hollowed out...As for the stars, those twinkling nightlights? ...Those were the numerous yellow eyes which stared at the small column as they made their way to the top.

Perhaps Penthesilea should have been grateful for the lack of missiles which came their way as they ascended to the top, but the truth was that she wasn't. She could have dealt with an outright attack, as disadvantageous that would have been, but their current situation was far more nerve wracking because Penthesilea had no clue about what would happen next.

The top floor was fairly small, or at least it seemed that way due to the massive size of the hollow chamber which she had just crossed. The room was low though, only just high enough to keep Penthesilea from having to bend her head to keep it from scraping against the ceiling and enclosed by broken rock walls which were rife with gaps and holes. Penthesilea eyed those slips warily, a suspicion which felt justified once the first yellow eyes appeared to peer through.

She hissed in return and raised her hand in return which made her Minions fan out.

"There is no need to feel...scared." An old, but rather high-pitched voice told her before he added with an undertone of poorly hidden irony, "Overlord." The owner of the voice who came strolling from the shadows was small and tanned. A Minion, one of the original Browns and obvious old enough to be considered a Grey. Unlike Gnarl who acted and dressed in accordance to some kind of beggar elegance. This one did not look overly differently from the other Browns. His back had been bent, his skin was somewhat paler but apart from those details she could see no real indication of an advanced age. On the contrary, the Minion's bare belly was taunt and heavy with muscles whilst his shoulders were broad. There was one noticeable difference with her own Minions though, this was the size of his hands. Whilst none of the Minions she had seen thus far could truly be described as owning a set of smooth, dainty fingers. His hands seemed more akin to shovels qua seize and were utterly devoid of the talon-like nails which her own Minions sported. Instead his nails were short, blunt and like the skin of his hands marred with numerous scars and scratches.

His head was mostly hidden behind a combination of scarves which covered his lower features and a brass miners helmet which curiously for a species with brilliant night vision had a small oil-lamp attached to it which was burning with a small but almost impossibly bright flame.

The last thing of notice was his weapon, this seemed like the bastard-child of a pick-axe and a far too heavy hammer with a haft that was fairly short. All of this painted a rather imposing impression of the Minion's strength.

It was at this point that Gnarl once again interjected.

"Grubby...This is brilliant news, my Lady." He said as the Minion paused and pointed his yellow eyes at Penthesilea. "Grubby was one of the tunnelers in the old days. He can reconnect us to the old network and even expand it as your power grows, Mistress."

"You're talking to someone." The Minion said out loud although the words seemed more akin to a conclusion for himself than an accusation.

Penthesilea gave chuckle in return, it was not a happy sound though.

"Indeed... Grubby. Who do you think is whispering to me?" She asked him in return as she moved towards him. Her Minions moved along with her and (with the exception of Brawler) formed a demi-circle behind her as if she was protecting them rather than the reverse.

She noticed the motion in the shadows behind Grubby as said darkness retreated and revealed more Minions...much more Minions. However these creatures receded along with the darkness in which they almost desperately seemed to hide.

Grubby hissed momentarily in return as he retreated along with his Minions.

A moment later a small number of Minions shot from the darkness at her and succeeded in temporarily blindsiding her.

Penthesilea's reaction was instinctive. The woman woman pointed her armored hand in their general direction then she hissed a single order. "Capture!"

The next moment she charged at Grubby and raised her gloved arm as she made a grasping gesture. Said Grey had his eyes widen as he recalled the gesture of a far older Overlord and stepped back whilst simultaneously motioning a trio of Minions forward to intercept her.

The fairly small fiery orb struck the ground just before two of the Minions and blew both of them backwards. The remaining Minion found his club caught between the blades of the axe, then he saw Penthesilea whirl closer and her hand reaching for his features as blue lightning crackled in the bare palm of her hand.

Then her hand touched his features and his previous orders didn't matter any more.

Grubby made another motion as he scrambled backwards which caused the rest of his group to charge forward like a massive tide.

The remaining members of Penthesilea's group charged forward to meet her in what seemed like a doomed attempt which would be swept aside. He knew they couldn't reach her in time.

But neither could his. The fastest of his Minions was thrown aside by the club from the third member of his vanguard whose now gleaming yellow eyes stared back at him with a disdain that previously would have been impossible.

A second Minion was driven back by the swings of the Third's club and then Penthesilea stepped within axe-distance from him with said weapon in one hand and crackling, blue lightning in the metal-gloved other.

"Enough, Grubby!" Gnarl snarled at them both as he intervened.

"The Minion Master…" Grubby muttered annoyed as he pointed his eyes at Penthesilea.

Said woman narrowed her own eyes in confusion before she recalled the title with which Gnarl had introduced himself to her.

Said Minion Master chuckled evilly in her ear as she stared down at Grubby.

"Indeed I am...It is so satisfying to be remembered."

"You're intervening…." Penthesilea reminded him before she continued with an edge in his voice. "Why?"

"You can't simply dominate a Grey as if he was a Brown or a human." Gnarl objected.

"Ooh, really." Penthesilea asked him with a dismissive smile as she raised her armored hand and had even more lightning cackle inside of it.

"What Gnarl failed to mention until now is that is impossible to permanently dominate the mind of Grey, we are far too old and slippery to be permanently subjected. I would break free…" Grubby told her with what she suspected was something of a smirk behind his scarves.

"Well...yes...eventually." Gnarl admitted and not exactly sounding pleased with that particular revelation, "that is correct."

Penthesilea gave a calm nod as she filed that particular bit of previously hidden information away for future schemes against her.

"Ain't that a shame ... "Penthesilea remarked with a calm voice which made it fairly obvious that it wouldn't keep her up at night, as she grasped her axe with both hands.

"You can't kill me," Grubby told her as he in direct contradiction to his words kept retreating from her. "You would have nobody to maintain the tunnels."

Penthesilea chuckled in return. "Gnarl referred to you as _one _of the tunnelers, not the only one!"

Grubby stared back at her with a mixture of annoyance and something that looked surprisingly much as actual approval.

Than to her far greater surprise he raised his head up and started laughing. The Minion had a high pitched, but rather hoarse laugh which carried a hint of darkness.

"Smart, you caught me there." He admitted as he began to disappear into the shadows and the majority of his remaining Minions began to retreat as well. The expressions upon their faces were likewise a mixture of emotions, in these cases, these were mostly a combination of curiosity, fear and something that was probably the Minion-equivalent of contemplation.

"I am not offering you my loyalty yet,...my lady." The Tunneler's voice told her as the figure himself had disappeared. "Not yet."

"Nor the service of my own Browns." He continued. "But I'll be watching you in the future."

It was at this moment that a portion of the floor seemed to acquire a blue shine and began to move.

Penthesilea recognized the gleam of metal as the "tiles" reflected the blue light and the floor continued to move. At first Penthesilea mistook the movement for the formation of large, metal stalagmites, then however she recognized the figures for what they were.

They weren't a parody of nature, they were a tribute… a tribute to the Overlord and each of them was shaped like the talons of the Overlord's Gauntlet.

"I have opened the Gates to you, my lady." Grubby revealed to her. "Use them well for swift movement is no less a weapon then swords or fires are."

"About the rest," he continued as the last of his remaining Minions disappeared into the shadows. "You can keep what you find in the room."

Penthesilea gave a snort in return, someone who had known her could have told Grubby that she was less than impressed by said Grey's concern for his Minions.

She raised her gauntleted hand none the less though and coated with the blue lightning which came along with the art of dominating. She knew far better than to disregard the gift of more forces.

"There ought to be a conveniently placed second portal near the entrance of the mining village. That should make it easy to get that crane into the tower. " Gnarl suggested carefully, aware that Penthesilea was rightfully suspicious of his intentions.

But that mattered little for the moment, she still had a lot of work to do, but he no longer doubted that she would make a fine Overlord… despite some of her more...heroic tendencies. Evil had just found a way and all she would have to do to reach the destination which Gnarl's intended for her was survive.

* * *

**A review is always appreciated.**


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